When Pandaemonium Awakens
by ShoredKafka
Summary: Voldemort's plan was for Harry to die. Dumbledore's plan was for Harry to be completely malleable. But neither of them counted on a third party entering the picture. How different a picture will be painted with the ancient spirits of Pandaemonium involved in Harry's life? Smart!Powerful!Harry. Some character bashing. No slash. Rating may change later on. DISCONTINUED!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, this is my first attempt at a piece of fanfiction ever. I've read a lot of it. I've betaed a story or two. But I'm not one of those people who thinks that it's only a small leap from reading to writing. Well, good writing anyways. **Please read this to better understand what I'm trying to do with the story.**

1) I'm using elements of the Bartimaeus Trilogy here. I've changed a lot about the summoning system, how it works, how demons are, etc… That's why it's not a crossover. No characters from BT will be found here, though my main Djinni character, Eliezer, is a little similar to Bartimaeus in terms of personality. The djinni classification system is largely the same. The narrative style with be switching between first and third person, as in Stroud's work.

2) Constructive reviews would be greatly appreciated. Pointless flames will be ignored, acknowledging them would be giving them more credit than they deserve. Please bear in mind that I'm only a fledgling writer as you read on.

**Disclaimer:** Neither Harry Potter, nor Bartimaeus Trilogy belong to me. I take no credit for ideas, characters and anything else they came up with, etc etc...

**Anyone who wants to co-write or beta the story please PM me. I haven't decided on whether I want a collaboration or not, so I'll be deciding based on interest and competency.**

* * *

Godric's Hollow was as quiet as ever. Some of the more festive residents had set outside of their houses a carved pumpkin or two, but the mood was sombre. The predominantly magical village did not have much reason to celebrate. War had ravaged magical Britain, and there was not a single person who had not lost someone or something to Lord Voldemort's faction. The fact that their settlement embodied the House Slytherin hated did not stand in their favor.

Lord Voldemort, the man who was at the focus of all their hatred, was sweeping down the main road of Godric's Hollow. Madness danced in his red eyes and the slits that functioned as his nostrils were flared with excitement. The thought that any resident in the village would do their best to kill him on sight did not seem to worry him in the slightest.

The few muggles who noticed him applauded the effort this man had obviously put into his Halloween costume. One muggle who was unfortunate enough to be noticed by Voldemort ended up relieving the experience over copious amounts of beer in a couple of hours. "Right fright'nin' bloke!" he recounted with macabre relish,"Looked like 'e wanted to kill me."

"Some people take 'alloween too seriously innit," commented his equally drunk friend with a sagely look, "Heard bout the explosion that 'appened a few blocks away? Some sorta gas exploshn, people were saying. Wonder what 'appened to them people 'oo lived there...Funny thing though, coulda sworn I never seen that 'ouse before. I seen all of them, y'know?" he managed, before slumping forward on the table.

His friend managed to roll his head out of the peanut bowl before collapsing on the table himself. "Weird guy…," he muttered as his vision began to blur, "Weird guy, weird house."

The two friends did not see a giant man take away a baby on a flying motorbike, crying uncontrollably as he did so. They did not see a group of strangely-dressed, official-looking people appear out of nowhere in front of the ravaged house, before waving sticks over the house. Funnily, they could never find the house again. None of the firemen or policemen seemed to remember anything about the house at all. "Coppers, innit," they snorted with disgust before dismissing the matter from their minds.

* * *

The plane of Pandaemonium would drive any human insane. It had no borders, no boundary, no definable beginning or end. It was a giant maelstrom of essence – some parts of it moving faster than the eye could see, others trickling sedately in a multitude of colors. Sometimes faces or places would appear in the maelstrom and last for a second, like the flicker of a candle, before being torn apart by the currents. For all this, the plane sounded tranquil, with the only noises being those conjured with a specific person or place.

Pandaemonium was one giant consciousness, though it was made up of millions of identities. The residents of Pandaemonium could, if they so wished, separate themselves from The Whole, but it did not often happen. The Whole was healing, peaceful. Many of the residents had been sworn enemies when separated into their individual selves, but here there was no rivalry, and no anger. The chaos, in itself, embodied everything that Order professed to lead to – Utopia.

Suddenly, a sound like that of a million thunderclaps was heard, and the flow of essence became frenzied and disorganized. Strands of essence unraveled from The Whole and condensed to form shapes. These shapes were not human – most not even humanoid. Countless voices began to speak at once, shattering the silence that existed before. Something alien was intruding on Pandaemonium. Something that had not been felt for centuries.

* * *

"Kesafat!" I muttered to myself in Persian as I sat in a chair gathered from essence, and looked at the four others sitting around me. I was in a construct called the Council Chamber, where the six most able djinni (as the residents of Pandaemonium liked to call themselves) convened when grave matters occurred. I think the last time I had to be here was six hundred years ago. We djinni classify ourselves into five levels, based on power: Imps, Foliots, Djinn, Ifrits, and Marids. Imps are the weakest, and Marids are the strongest. The Council is made up of three Marids, and two Ifrits. I'm an Ifrit myself, though with my amazing intellect and good-looking essence, I'm as good as a Marid. The other four don't agree for some reason.

"What was that, Eliezer?" growled Andromalius (another Ifrit), sitting directly opposite to me at the round table. Andromalius was in his preferred form - A seven foot tall human, with gray skin and red eyes. His skin was drawn into his muscles so tightly that for all intentions and purposes, he might not have had skin at all. Three more things about him. He had a giant hole in the middle of his chest. And a serpent was coiled throughout him, passing through the middle of his chest in the process, with its head moving near his right shoulder. And finally, he was still not used to physicality yet, so what should have come out as a deep, intimidating voice instead came out as a high-pitched, evil baby squeal.

"Shut it, dribble-face," snarled a voice at my left, where Dantalion (a Marid) was sitting. His preferred form was the top-half of a human torso, with wings and pink skin. He was famous for casting powerful Glamour Charms on those who summoned him, that they might have the partner of their dreams. Of course, he was also famous for starting wars and massacring millions in the process. I think the Greeks named him Cupid. They also thought he was a cute little baby. Idiots.

"One would think that you two would have changed at least a little," said a deep, calm voice to my right. Decarabia (the second Marid) was one of the few demons I respected, since he had more wisdom than the other three council members put together. I'm the exception of course. The only problem was Decarabia's form – He insisted on looking like a giant red starfish. In my opinion, it was just wrong for marine-life to possess a baritone. But clearly, superior wisdom felt otherwise. Ignoring the retorts of "Shut up you old fart!" and "You still smell like rotten fish!" I looked at the remaining council member.

Avnas (the last Marid) always chose to appear in flames. But she soon made the compromise of appearing as flames around a human silhouette. I like to think I prodded her gently to make this change, with numerous "urinating on campfire" jokes. It was with the best of intentions of course, but she still seems to hate me for some reason. I don't understand why. Without me motivating her, her chair would have a bonfire on it instead. She got right down to business, as was her norm, "Enough. We must investigate these portals. What have you all been able to ascertain so far?"

I decided to chip in at this point, if only because the conversation between Dantalion and Andromalius had deteriorated to "No you!" "No you!" at this point. "We know that the mechanics of the portals are similar to a summoning portal."

"Yes," chipped in Decarabia, "The minute the portals started forming, we immediately gained knowledge of what appears to be a new form of English. Only summoning portals can imbue us with his knowledge, so that we may understand the words of the idiot who summons us."

"But summoning portals are only felt by the demon being summoned. All of Pandaemonium seems to be affected by this," mused Avnas. "Indeed so. They also seem to be attracting essence. It is only a small pull now, but there is no guarantee that the pull will not increase in strength later on. This may become a serious issue."

"Nothing is stronger than me!" was Andromalius' contribution at this point, while Dantalion held him in a headlock. I sighed. _Pinnacle of djinni, my hazy behind. He's lucky he's strong_.

"One of us must investigate. I'm quite surprised that no djinni has tried to go through the portals already." At this point, I snorted with laughter. "Please, with the air of danger the portals are giving off, I'm surprised they aren't farther away from them. Oh, and no way am I going. I'm perfectly alright here, thank you very much."

"You're scared aren't you, Eliezer? You're a lily-livered, bow-legged, snivelling little wimp aren't you?" leered Andromalius. I was too surprised by his sudden fountain of vocabulary to think anything of the insult. "Our little Ifrit is going up so fast," I sniffed, wiping an imaginary tear from my face while Decarabia chuckled. Avnas could have smiled, but it was hard to tell when her face was nothing but flames.

"We could draw straws," suggested Dantalion, his essence starting to clump from the strain of thinking so hard. "What a great idea!" I mock exclaimed, "Let's forget the fact that one of us will have to mold essence to make those straws, and that djinni would know which straw _not_ to pick."

"It's what me and Decarabia did when that human king made us build triangles in the sand," mumbled Dantalion. I stared at him, wide-eyed at how oblivious he was. Even as a starfish, I could feel Decarabia radiating a smug air."

"Tell me," I said to Dantalion, "Were you always the one losing?" "Yeah!" exclaimed Dantalion. "It was so unfair! But it was a game of chance, so I can't blame the dried-up fish for this one." The aforementioned starfish was literally trembling with suppressed laughter at this point. I was dumbfounded, and couldn't bring myself to say anything for a while. Then, shaking my head to pull myself out of my daze, I made my own suggestion: Dice. It was one of the few games where no one could cheat within Pandaemonium.

* * *

Shortly afterwards, I was forced towards the portals still whining about how they had all cheated. "There's no way Andromalius rolled higher than me!" I howled as I got up from the chair and started to move towards the portals. I growled as the other djinni seemed to be laughing their essence off behind my back.

"Well just as well," I called behind my back, unable to leave without taking a parting shot, "Andromalius would probably get lost in the wormhole!" The laughing did not stop.

I sent out tendrils of my consciousness towards the seven portals, cautiously trying to ascertain what lay at the other end. They certainly did seem to lead somewhere. I caught traces of the hated world that had left Pandaemonium alone for a few centuries. But six of the portals did not seem to have any sign of life nearby. Near the seventh, however, I sensed one life form, too small to be anything other than a child. The other, however, was considerable. _Best start there I suppose. I wonder how much the human world has changed since the last time I was there. _

I stopped that train of thought quickly. _Considering they once felt the need to prove their importance by building giant, phallic tombs for themselves, I'm not sure I want to know how they've changed…_

_Well, no point delaying the inevitable_ I grumbled to myself before shifting into one of my frequent forms, an owl. My essence would have to be compact, as I had no idea how ferocious the portal would be. _It seems safe, but was Alexander's deal that he would let me go after I accomplished one task. I can't believe the little snot wanted the entire world. At least I wasn't the only djinni to get suckered. I remember when..._

* * *

Ten minutes later, an owl had finally zoomed at the portal, after being encouraged to move on with the aid of some detonations towards his tail feathers. He was still cursing Avnas as he entered the portal.

* * *

A baby was gurgling quietly to himself, as he looked at the night stars. This was no ordinary baby though. For one thing, he was currently occupying the top step of a house in Privet Drive. Were it not for the fact that the blanket he was wrapped in was magically enchanted to keep him pleasantly warm, he would probably have woken up half the neighborhood with his cries of discomfort. As it stood, though, he was content to devote his attention to his toes and the night sky, in turns.

* * *

I was out of the portal within seconds of entering it. The currents of the portal had been vicious, and would have torn apart any djinni not experienced in holding their essence together. Of course, before delving into the matter too much, I first had to recover my dignity, having slammed face-first into a lamp post because of the speed I exited the portal with.

After ruffling my feathers with a dignified look, or as much of a look as I could manage while in owl form, I hopped over to where I felt the rotten energy of the portal pulsing strongly. My beak fell open with surprise, when I realized that the energy was almost pulsing from a small baby that lay on the top step of what looked to be a house. _Well. And this was the one age bracket when humans are supposed to not cause trouble._

I was mildly surprised to see humans leave their young outside on a cold night. But only mildly. My attention was aroused, however, by the letter that was near the baby. _It would be too much to hope for, but perhaps this will explain why this little lump of flesh seems to be tearing holes into my home._ Looking around to see if anyone was outside - though that was unlikely at this time of the night - I shifted into the shape of a human boy.

I sharpened one of my nails, and then sliced thinly across the wax seal holding the envelope together. The letter was long, and appeared as if it had been written with great care. I realized that I could not understand most of what was in the letter. The world had changed, and there was too much I needed to learn. I memorized the letter, before resealing it with a delicate burst of flame.

I would have to scout the land a little, and learn what I could. Luckily, most humans - even most magicians - did not realize that djinni could read minds. Only the summoning pentacle and the contract formed while in it rendered djinni unable to read the minds of their masters. _At least that's one annoyance I don't have to deal with this time_ I snorted to myself before turning to leave. At the last second, I hesitated. Who knew where the baby would be when I was done? Front step today, different house tomorrow. I attached a very small portion of my essence on the child, just enough for me to be able to sense it.

Before leaving, I pounded on the door loudly for a few times. Couldn't have some sort of stray animal making away with the kid now, could I? I waited just long enough to hear loud swearing coming from inside the house before smirking, turning back into an owl, and flying away into the night.

* * *

**Concluding Notes: **So, you've probably noticed that I've skimmed over or given a different viewpoint to cannon events. Well, I thought it was better than regurgitating or summarizing what the book itself already says. You know what happens. Those little snippets were more to synchronize the timeline somewhat, so you could get a foothold on where the story was at.

Too little of Harry Potter? Well, he's a baby. I promise you that after the next chapter, he will receive far greater attention. I want to develop his character in a very different way. So please, bear no worry on that score. Harry Potter will be one of the main stars, just not in this chapter. Read and review please!


	2. Chapter 2: Gargoyles and Grease

**A/N: **

The response I've received far outstripped the expectations I had! Thank you all for reading. First things first, responses to reviews:

**Man of Constant Sorrow:** I had the same issue with BT. I think Bartimaeus is the main reason for the fan base the series enjoys. I'll definitely be switching POVs, and HP obviously has more characters, but I promise I'll try to introduce some good depth while writing the story.

**geetac: **Thank you for commenting.

Now, again a couple of notes:

1) The seven planes. I suggest googling for the seven planes. There's a Bartimaeus wikia website that explains it well. I've taken that system, and I'll modify it to include the magical system in Harry Potter. It should make for some great additions to the HP world. Of course the planes will be explained in story later on, but the wikia is a great place to start for people who want to know what the concept is right away.

2) **Suggestions for pairing:** Drop me a review with a pairing you'd like to see. I'm not a big fan of Multi, but I'll consider it if enough people seem to want it. Once I get a list of names, I'll set up a poll and see who the lucky winner is :P

3) Read and review!

* * *

I was thoroughly annoyed. After two days of flying and examining the minds of various people, I finally found a magician. _Or, as they apparently preferred to call themselves now, wizards _I snorted to myself. I was then able to determine how I could spot a magician. All I had to do was find the most horrendously dressed people, and inspect their minds. _Magicians did always seem to take their fashion advice from clowns and jesters, but this is ridiculous! One guy was wearing what looked like a carpet from an old Roman whorehouse! _

Not all mind were easy game though. I was astonished to find that some wizards protected their minds. Of course, the protections were as effective as two-foot stone walls keeping out enemy soldiers from a city, but I had to reluctantly admit that magicians had progressed a little. _Very little_ I stressed to myself. After reading a few minds, it was apparent that some place called Diagon Alley seemed to be the place where the magicians accumulated. _Like pond scum_ I scoffed to myself before calling up the memory that would tell me how to get there.

There had been a brief time when I had switched my form to a dove instead, to better blend in during daylight. After three attempted assaulted by rabid city pigeons, I was both full and irritated. I belched out a few pigeon feathers before shifting back into owl form. The wizarding memories indicated that owls were used to communicate. I felt like laughing. They had invented spells and artifacts to transport _people_, and hadn't yet bothered to apply the same principle to pieces of paper.

Diagon Alley seemed to leave very little room for the wizards themselves. The purpose of the road seemed to be to herd masses of wizards together until they found themselves in front of a bank called Gringotts. I stopped short of entering the bank, when I realized that the bank was staffed by goblins. Wizards seemed to have forgotten about us entirely, but the goblin-folk were far more astute and protective of their lore. Goblins and djinni had bonded deeply over their mutual dislike of humans, but it would not be wise to approach them so soon after centuries. I needed more information, and the wizards I had scanned so far did not seem to have in-depth information on anything important.

Just as I was eyeing the bank, I noticed a well-dressed man walk out of Gringotts. He had just finished sneering at the goblin guards outside. His pace picked up in a hurry when one of them casually readied a poleaxe. His hair was pale blonde, and he looked just like the pompous, inefficient nobles in Solomon's court. It was amazing how the cape had endured over the centuries. It was the one constant mistakes magicians seemed to make. His mind was guarded, but not thoroughly. I infiltrated his mind delicately, careful to make full use of the cracks in his mental defense. This man was a fountain of information. I gained much knowledge of wizarding politics, as well of the group known as the death eaters. _You're not as useless as you look, Lucius Malfoy_ I snickered to myself.

With the requisite information on one side of the power struggle, I decided to visit this old man called Albus Dumbledore next. As with all old men who had the reputation of being great and powerful, I fully expected him to be on the decline and unaware of it. It wasn't even much of a guess, old bearded people always seemed to hold the monopoly on power over the centuries.

The castle Hogwarts, according to Lucius Malfoy's memories, was quite far away. My bird form would be too slow, and I wasn't in the mood to enjoy what would be monotonous Scottish scenery. I flapped my wings powerfully a few times, enough to reach a very high altitude. I promptly shifted into the form of a gargoyle, and ensured that I would not be visible on any plane that a human would be able to see me in (There are seven planes overall, it's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. Normal folk can only see the first plane, while magicians can see till the third if they take certain steps).

My wings were now powerful, sinew flexing like a wound wire beneath tough, gray skin. The landscape below became a blur as I put all my focus into speed. Scotland would only be three hours away at this speed. I could always pick out a pigeon or two if I got hungry along the way.

* * *

Petunia and Vernon Dursley were facing a problem. On the one hand, there was a spawn of satan (as they so loving referred to Harry) currently napping in their living room. On the other hand, as Vernon pointed out, "We can earn some reputation with this, pet. The family that graciously took in the orphaned child. That'll show the Millers."

"But Vernon...what if he becomes a freak? Like _her?_" fretted Petunia, not paying any attention to the bacon, which was starting to overcook on the pan.

"Nothing a bit of good old fashioned work won't cure," said Vernon gruffly, his piggy eyes staring desperately at the pan as his breakfast was seconds away from burning, "And if he starts showing freakishness, we'll just knock it out of him."

The atmosphere in the room was tense. Vernon was starting to sweat, as he mentally pleaded with Petunia to remove the pan. Petunia seemed to be deep in thought. Finally, at the last second, she moved the pan away and began to plate it. Vernon breathed a sigh of relief and opened his newspaper. The Dursleys would soon be known as the caring, rich, and extremely and utterly normal family of 4 Privet Drive.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was facing a challenge that even he, the defeater of Grindelwald, considered to be serious. Lemon drops. The supplier he had been using for the past fifty years had stopped production.

"Too outdated," they had said. "It doesn't attract the young customers anymore," they said. Didn't they realize that he, the Supreme Mugwump, required them to continue being great? Did he not buy nearly five hundred of them a month? Did that mean nothing?

He sighed mournfully, just as he felt the gargoyle leading to his offices jump aside. He shook his head slightly and put on his patented favorite grandfather smile, but quickly dropped it when Severus Snape entered the room. Just then, an owl fluttered by his window. Odd, his staff did not receive much mail. He pushed the matter from his mind as a greasy bat suddenly engulfed most of his vision. He only narrowly stopped himself from suggesting a bath to Severus.

* * *

I smoothly made the transition from gargoyle to owl as I drew closer to the tower. I was fairly certain that magicians these days were not capable of looking beyond the first plane, but it was better to be safe than certain. The old man was easy to find. True to his reputation, his magic aura stood out clearly from the other people within the castle.

I flew past the point where the aura was closest, and almost cheered when I saw a convenient window that I could get through. I flew past the window and turned into a beetle, just in time to cling to the side of the stone wall. I then scuttled cautiously to the window, looking through all seven planes to see if there were any security precautions put up on it. I highly doubted it though, people Dumbledore's age started relying on their reputation as much as they did their power for security. Sometimes they relied on reputation even more.

"...You will have your revenge, Severus," was what I heard him say as I settled in a comfortable position on the window ledge, making sure to keep a sharp eye out for any birds that might see me as a snack.

"What will happen to Potter's brat?" snarled a man who looked as if he had been dipped in Egyptian paraffin.

_The old coot left him on a step,_ I told him mentally. Somehow, I could see him being quite happy with that arrangement. He looked more angsty than Helen of Troy after the Trojan War had begun. Trust me.

"I am afraid I cannot let anyone know Severus. It is for Harry's own safety. Rest assured that he is perfectly safe," replied the codger, and I caught my first full view of his eyes, which were twinkling like electricity was fueling them. I gulped and hid myself a little more. Knowingly or not, this man had done the procedure required to see on the first three planes. I had only ensured that my form would be hidden on the first plane. I could not change it now, without alerting his attention.

"I could not care less about his welfare, Headmaster. I was referring to the prophecy," said the grease stick, his voice dropping a little when mentioning the prophecy. I pricked up my antennae upon hearing this. _If the child is somehow connected to a prophecy, this just became very hard. Even djinni cannot interfere with a true prophecy _I mused, a little angry that the portals could not be taken care of as soon as I had planned.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was beginning to get irritated. Here was Severus, asking meaningless questions about one of _his _plans. His plans, were after all, flawless and intricate. Meanwhile, the more serious issue of his lemon drops was not being addressed at all.

"Severus-," he began to snap, intending to end the conversation quickly. He almost fell over his seat when, with a shriek, a huge bird swooped to his window, scooped up some kind of bug, and flew away.

"Goodness me!," he said, his anger quite forgotten, "What has gotten into the wildlife today?"

Snape merely sneered before excusing himself and sweeping out of the room. Albus performed a surreptitious cleaning charm behind him. He could not have the sacred floor of the Headmaster's office covered with grease.

* * *

I had, over the course of hundreds of years, learnt the importance of always being aware of my surroundings. But I had been so distracted by the prophecy and the grease on the sallow man, that I had temporarily suspended those learning. And here I am, trying to hold up the beak of a vicious raven using beetle legs. I couldn't shift shape again until I was far away enough that I wouldn't draw attention.

"Take this, you stupid chicken," I snarled, before pointing one of my legs at the roof of the bird's mouth and firing a mild Detonation at it. The raven shrieked out in pain, and its beak was open long enough for me to jump out of it. The bird would have mouth sores for a while.

_Serves the evil little turkey right_ I thought as I shifted back into a gargoyle. The raven had moved far away enough for me to do this safely, and this time I took care to conceal my presence on the first three planes. It took more effort, but I would only have to hold my essence that way for a few minutes. I had to start looking at this as a long term project. I could not risk harm befalling Pandaemonium by interfering directly in a prophecy. But first, I had to know what exactly the prophecy said. Good ol' Lucius could probably help me with that too.

I scanned the information idly before bringing Diagon Alley to the front of my mind and transferring my essence there. Flying was good, but the pigeon population would soon be in danger if I continued it.

* * *

"Vernon!" shrieked Petunia, just as Vernon got back from work early. His Diddly Diddykins would perhaps say his first word. But all hopes of a quiet evening with his family was ruined with his horse- er, lovely wife's shriek.

"What is it, pet?" he asked wearily as he loosened his tie and entered the living room. A shout - or rather scream - rang throughout Privet Drive when he processed what lay within. His precious, cuddly, Dinky Diddlydums was orange! Orange!

"I-It was the freak Vernon. Our little Dudley toddled over to say hello and the freak did this to him!" sniffed Petunia tearfully, hugging Dudley to her tightly. That Dudley's had already refined his method of welcome to knocks on the head did not seem to register with her.

Vernon went purple as he swelled with rage. The purple toads of the Amazon would have awed by this demonstration. "Get-freak-ready," he gritted through his teeth before stomping off to the phone directory to look for the nearest orphanage.

* * *

Finding and entering the ministry had been entirely too easy. Most of their wards seemed to have been directed towards humans. Magicians really had forgotten about us spirits. Before, every place of importance would have layers upon layers of wards to keep out us djinni. If we weren't within those layers working _for _the people who put them up of course. Lucius Malfoy had comparatively little information on prophecies, but I did find out that there was a Hall of Prophecies in the Ministry of Magic. _No prizes for originality to whoever came up with those names_ I thought dryly as the human I was following was walking towards what I hoped was the Hall of Prophecy.

When a djinni has a lot of essence, it was the small forms that required more effort. Your essence would have to highly compressed to take the form of, for example, a flea. I, being amazing and resourceful, had mastered this art long ago. In this case, a rat invisible on the first three planes was scuttering closely on the heels of what Lucius Malfoy's memories flagged as being an Unspeakable.

_What is with the names? You tell someone you are Unspeakable and they'll do everything they can to make you talk! Do humans not understand human nature? _was my wise observation, just before moving out of the way of a shoe. _That they wear robes makes things so much worse...the smell is awful!_

Five harassing minutes later, I stumbled out of a contraption called an elevator, feeling quite overcome. Five minutes of enclosed space with feet everywhere, reeking robes, and people who seemed determined to gossip a full day's worth before they stepped out. _I can't do this anymore… The dungeons of Genghis Khan was more tolerable than this hellhole _I whined piteously, before scurrying onwards.

It was a maze, this place. It adhered by the true principle of government throughout the ages, which was to make things as messy and disorganized as possible. This government had perfected the art. It wasn't long before I found myself in the Hall of Prophecy. There was Old Magic here, magic that would not fade in and out through the millennia. Magic that could not be denied, even by Pandaemonium.

Orbs glowed in the dim light, and dust seemed to have been theatrically scattered over the shelves. _Malfoy scoffing at people studying the power of love. No wonder. Doesn't look like anyone has studied anything for a while, by the looks of it_.

I carefully examined the closest orb. That no one was here picking the orbs off the shelves indicated powerful preventative magic. And it was. It was magic that keyed to the unique magical signature of the individuals concerned. Even I couldn't get past the activation wards these people

had set into place. It seems there _was _some competency here after all. However, removing the orb itself was a simple matter. The preventative wards were, again, keyed completely to humans.

_No point taking the orb now and having the theft noticed. I'll have to come back when the child's magic stabilizes _ I decided, and stayed there for a while. I was nowhere near ready to brave that elevator soon.

* * *

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE NO ORPHANAGES IN THE UK ANYMORE?" yelled Vernon into a phone while Petunia looked on disbelievingly. A few seconds later, Vernon slammed the phone down so hard it nearly broke.

"WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH THE FREAK NOW? I WON'T HAVE HIM NEAR MY DUDLEYKINS ANYMORE!" roared Vernon, while Petunia tried to calm him down. He had, at this point, gone through all the colors of the rainbow. She didn't think that was helping his health any.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Vernon opened it, breathing heavily, and ready to rain down destruction if it was one of those annoying salesmen. He stopped short when he saw a distinguished-looking man with neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard and hair. His clothes oozed money while the man seemed to radiate a casual disregard for it. His green eyes were uncomfortably sharp, and both Dursleys unconsciously tried to groom themselves a little more.

"Good evening. Mister Dursley, I presume? I would like to discuss with you the matter of adopting young Harry Potter."

* * *

**Concluding Notes:**

1) The Snape thing? Yeah, he's destined for bashing. My personal respect for the character is very low, and that will be reflected in the story.

2) The thing with Dumbledore's titles is me take a jab at them all. Never trust a man with too many titles.

3) Read and review please!


	3. Chapter 3: Pelvic Imps and Diapers

**A/N:**

**So, sorry about the delay with updating. I had to move to a new city, join my new university program, set stuff up, etc... I've settled into a stable rhythm now, so I'll be updating at a greater frequency. Once a week at least.**

**Thank you to those who reviewed. They were more feedback-type reviews, so I don't think there's anything to respond to as such.**

**You might be wondering why there are so many pre-Harry chapters. I know it's more usual to focus on events when Harry is old enough to...talk and think, let's say :P But I'm trying to take this a different way. The pace might seem sedate now, but I promise you it'll liven up soon. **

**If you're interested in betaing the story or helping me with the writing, shoot me a PM! I haven't decided on getting help for sure, but if you're good and interested, why the hell not?**

**As always, Read and Review! **

**Chapter – 3**

Pandaemonium had never been this restless. Imps and foliots merely ran around (figuratively, movement on Pandaemonium worked differently) screaming incoherent nonsense while the more intelligent races settled for frightened, confused huddles. The portals had now been open for nearly a month – Long enough for even the imps to gain a basic understanding of the current human languages. Even some aspects of human culture had started seeping through, which had proved to be quite annoying. Imps and foliots had started shouting "Doggy style!" and making rude gestures while cackling madly. Of course, that had only lasted until the higher races lost their temper and sent a few Detonations in their direction.

"A prophecy!" cursed Dantalion, while preening his shockingly pink feathers. It looked like an artist painting Cupid had suddenly felt the need to breed the baby god with a harpy.

"Like you'd know what we're talking about," sniggered Andromalius, casually reaching out to grab a particularly rabid imp that had been jerking its pelvis back and forth rapidly near his head. He squeezed causally until the imp reverted back into essence with a small pop.

"So this child and one other are connected to the portals. We cannot harm either because they fall under the bounds of prophecy," mused Decarabia, ignoring the now bickering members with a flair born of centuries of practice.

"This could prove troublesome. We managed to erect barriers soon after you went through one of the portals," said Avnas seriously, "The lower ranks that tried to go through were torn apart by the portal, so it wasn't difficult to persuade the rest to stay away from them."

I knew about the barriers. Having slammed face-first into them upon re-entering Pandaemonium, it was quite hard **not** to know about the barriers. I had to essencify (Yes, I made that word up) quite a few imps and foliots to make sure the story wouldn't spread.

"But this would mean a twenty year wait, at least," moaned Decarabia, "We can get most of the spirits to revert back to essence again, since the barriers prevent any essence from spilling over. However, we will all have to stay in this manner until the situation is resolved. I hope the Primals don't awaken," he said, casting a slightly fearful glance some distance away, where streams of golden essence moved slothfully, uncaring of what was transpiring around them.

"The meat bags are so fragile," sniffed Dantalion, having caught back up with the conversation recently, "And this one is still pink meat, you say? Don't suppose it can talk yet?"

I stared at Dantalion incredulously. He was pretending not to know about human children, when in fact, a dark portion of his history had involved him babysitting two of Caesar's love children.

"In any case," said Avnas hurriedly, anticipating the next verbal spar, "The situation has been contained. We can afford to wait for twenty years, I think."

"But the dissidents," started Decarabia worriedly when Andromalius cut in.

"It's been centuries since a human meddled with Pandaemonium. I don't think the dissidents have much reason to still feel the way they do."

"I don't sense any of them nearby. Do you think any of them could have crossed the portal before we barricaded them?" asked Decarabia speculatively, when I cut in. Thinking idly wouldn't answer any of these questions.

"There's no way of knowing now. We need to decide on a course for the future. The child must be allowed to grow a little before the prophecy will react to it. That means waiting for at least four years. I'm guessing that the prophecy will involve this child and the other life form engaging in some sort of epic battle-"

"How do you know this, Eliezer?" asked Decarabia curiously, "You said you could not gain access to the prophecy!"

"I was merely working off the Greek drama tangent. Young child loses his parents to a villain, grows up to fight said villain, and somehow, the final battle is always one versus one. Even Homer got bored of that one."

"We are decided then," Avnas said loudly, "That Eliezer shall watch over the child until the prophecy is revealed, and decide further plans then."

"Eliezer, rearing a human young?" leered Danalion, "The prospect is frightening. Do try to keep it alive."

I responded by grabbing a nearby imp and tossing it at the side of his head, where it started pelvic-thrusting again. On that dignified note, the meeting ended.

* * *

Bernard Pennyweather looked around in a bored manner, his expert eye darting around the crowded Atrium, profiling people with an expert eye. His pudgy hands clawed carelessly at his swollen chest, while he chewed absent-mindedly at the end of his battered looking quill.

"Potential bribe."

"Pain in the ass."

"Undercover reporting internee."

"Potential investment."

His own desk rarely received visitors. This was the shift he chose when he wanted a restful day, too lazy to even accept bribes. He had been working in the department to bully, lie, and cajole his way into whatever shift suited his fancy. Already he was contemplating lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps today was the day he would satisfy many years of curiosity and try Tom's Dragon Liver recipe.

He frowned as a silhouette obstructed his glazed vision, but quickly wiped the frown from his face when he saw the sheer wealth the person in front of him was exuding. It wasn't the gaudy loudness that most new money resorted to in a desperate attempt to catch the eye of the public and any paparazzi photographers that might be nearby. No, this was understated money, and that was a sure sign of great wealth and class. He frowned, wondering why he had never come across this man before.

"My name is Eliezer Aristide. I wish to register my family in the British register. I intend for my lineage to find their futures in magical Britain. I was told that you were the person to see," said the man calmly, taking a seat in front of Bernard.

"But of course Lord Aristide…it _is_ Lord is it not?" asked Bernard with fake curiosity. The ring glinting on the man's finger as good as answered his question for him.

"Indeed so. The Aristide name would be considered noble in terms of its history. And it's wealth too of course," the glint in the man's eye suggested that he was greatly amused by the question.

"I wonder, milord, as to why the name seems rather…unheard of" asked Bernard delicately, and attempted to wear an appeasing look on his face. The result was rather grotesque, as his yellow teeth flashed prominently for all to see.

"My great-grandfather saw the East as a promising opportunity. We have been, for the most part, dealing with Asian countries. Our services were of a rather…delicate nature. It is not a surprise that we wished for anonymity," the man replied, a dangerous glint entering his eye.

Bernard found that his throat was suddenly dry. 'Delicate services' often meant assassinations, or other manner of 'unusual services'. He started perspiring. His lifespan would very well be shortened based on how he handled this matter. The man sitting in front of him seemed the very picture of a casual attitude, but somehow, he felt profoundly afraid.

"O-of course. I m-must ask you to f-fill this form," stuttered Bernard, "And ask for a d-drop of your b-blood. The blood will be proof o-of your n-noble stature."

The man's face remained inscrutable as he kept looking at Bernard steadily. He made no move to pick up the parchment or quill that lay on the table. Bernard turned pale, but somehow managed to keep from losing his composure. The seconds ticked by slowly. Finally, the man raised his hand. Bernard flinched violently, but realized that the man had merely begun to write on the parchment.

The parchment was merely for the use of government officials. What was important was the blood. The British had long settled on deciding what would constitute a Noble family – the magic in one's blood. It would take quite a few centuries of pureblooded tradition to result in blood "pure" enough for the charmed parchment to declare a lineage to be Noble. The result was that very few families could aspire to reach the status of a Noble Family.

In a few minutes, Bernard had managed to lose a few stone of weight in sweat, and a slight stench had started to make itself felt. The man did not seem to respond to this at all. Finally, the quill was set down and the man picked up the small, sharp knife next to the parchment. This was the moment of truth. Despite the state he was in, Bernard could not help but look with interest. This was not something that happened often.

A glint of steel later, a few drops of a dark, crimson shade fell onto the parchment, which turned a bright golden color for a few seconds before dimming. The paper had changed color from white to gold. Lord Aristide seemed unsurprised by the result.

"Very well, L-Lord Aristide," squeaked Bernard, now thoroughly frightened. Any niggling thought that the man might be some sort of imposter was now crushed. "You will be recognized a Noble Family of Britain within five days. You will only be eligible to apply for a Wizengamot seat after your family has been i-in Britain for seven years."

_God help us all when that happens_ Bernard added to himself privately. Almost as if the man had heard this thought, he glared at Bernard for a brief instant before rising and leaving. A small thud was heard on the table as he passed by. A pouch of Galleons had been dropped on the table. He would not rejoice until much later. His robes were in need of urgent changing.

* * *

"Eliezer!" wailed Decarabia as I walked into the mansion I had purchased a few days ago. Well, it had been more of a ruin when I'd purchased it. It was amazing what an army of djinns could do. They were the perfect workforce. They survived the wormhole…for the most part…and were intelligent enough to obey instructions, but not intelligent enough to be greatly independent. A few djinni wanted to look around the new world, until a barrage of Fluxes convinced them of the virtues of staying where they were.

It was a new experience for these daemons to choose when they could enter the human world. A regulatory system had never been necessary before as they would be forced into servitude the minute they entered the human realm. Most daemons were happy to stay in Pandaemonium and avoid the human world entirely. There was, at least for now, no great danger of daemons clamoring to enter the human world and wreak havoc. The barriers around the wormholes were sustained nonetheless.

"What is it?" I asked curiously, shifting from my form of Eliezer Aristide into something more comfortable – the visage of Ptolemy. Ptolemy had been the only exception to the rule that were brutal human magicians over the centuries. I was by no means the only daemon to feel that way about him. He had summoned many daemons and won them over despite not actively trying to do so.

"This young one has not stilled his vocal chords since you left," said Decarabia with a pained expression on his face as he pointed to Harry. I sighed. In retrospect, leaving Decarabia with Harry had not been the best of ideas. But when the choices were the other council members, I didn't really have a choice now did I?

"Did you try feeding him?" I asked.

"The young one would not partake of any sustenance," he sighed, throwing his fins up in frustration.

"What else could it be?" I mused. "Human babies only do three things. Eat, sleep, and…"

A sense of doom fell upon the room as Decarabia and I reached the same conclusion simultaneously.

"Yes, well…" I murmured as I started edging towards the door, "Work to do and all that. Must get into human life. There is no one I would trust with this responsibility than you Decarabia. You…would execute it better than I."

"Oh no no, Eliezer. You are this child's guardian. How could I take over what humans consider to be part of the sacred duty of bringing up a child? Also, my fins leave me ill-equipped to handle a task as delicate as this," said Decarabia earnestly, arranging his fins in an expression of helplessness.

"You're a spirit! You can change your form you fossilized piece of fish!" I snarled, all pretenses at civility dropped.

"Did you not draw the short straw when deciding who would take care of the child? 'Taking care' also happens to involve this disgusting product of human flesh!" countered Decarabia before immediately using the portal back to Pandaemonium.

Harry wailed plaintively.

_I must find a human nursemaid for this child_ I mused to myself.

Harry seemed to gurgle in agreement.

That still left me with the immediate problem. This was not going to be pleasant.

* * *

Sirius Black groaned as he felt his body slam into a cold, hard floor.

"What happened?" he groaned, trying to clear the fog in his mind. He really had to stop these drunken orgies. But this could not be his bed. Where was the mattress? And why did the base of the bed smell like dirt that had been urinated upon?

He cracked his eyes open, and was relieved to find that the room he was in was dark. Very little light filtered through. But this relief was short lived when he realized that the room he was in was tiny! And it was completely barren, save for a ragged blanket on one corner.

Suddenly, the events of the previous days came flooding back to him. "Harry!" he yelled incoherently, trying to get to his feet. But his head seemed intent on sticking to the floor.

Over his throbbing headache, he heard a voice behind him say, "Rot in hell Black! Your precious Dark Lord is gone. Fucking traitors like you should be-" at this point, the voice cut off with a girlish squeal and he could hear footsteps fading away.

"What the-" he began to swear when, over his splitting headache, he could feel a chill that every living soul dreaded. A cold, rattling sound was heard and he felt every happy memory he had moving away from him.

"Oh," he said. There was nothing else to say. He was in Azkaban.

* * *

**Keep those options for romance coming it. It definitely won't be HarryMulti, that way, I can try to bring some depth into it. You have time, Harry's still getting his diapers changed!**

**Read and review!**


	4. Chapter 4 - White Ravens, Daemon Lords

**A/N:**

**Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, not the elements of Bartimaeus Trilogy that I've used belong to me. I'm just playing around with them.**

**Yes, the pace is beginning to pick up now. **

**Thank you again for the reviews. They seem to indicate that a lesser known character such as Fleur or Daphne, or someone along those lines would make for a good romance. I agree. Hermione and Ginny lovers will not like me very much, I think. I won't be making it a point to bash either of them, but don't count on them becoming any sort of major presence in Harry's life.**

**Also, the rating has been changed to T in view of some of the references and innuendos I've used. Always better to be on the safe side!**

**Now, read on.**

* * *

Goldclaw was thoroughly disgusted. This was not, sadly, a momentary emotion. Wizards disgusted him. Hisown position within Gringotts exemplified their two-faced nature. His task was to verify and catalogue all blood-registrations made with the human Ministry. The waiting period for a family to be approved was not because of "official Ministry verification." And since the Ministry had outlawed blood magic among humans, it fell to "lesser creatures" such as the goblins to carry out this "distasteful" piece of magic.

Goldclaw, having lost the last game of dice between the Senior Accounts, had the ill fortune of being stuck at this desk for the next two weeks. _Never again. Grog is not meant to be heated. Oh by Grimlock's flabby rear, I feel queasy…_

No one would ever realize that his thoughts were along these lines of course. They would receive a cold glare, though the ministry official _had_ noted that the glare, this morning, was less focused and more distant.

Goldclaw was slightly mollified by the fact that there were only three parchments to scrutinize today. Two of them were only applying to be entered in the Register, and not as part of a Noble house of any sort. They were dealt with in a matter of minutes. His heart fell when he realized that the third parchment had turned a light yellow. Throwing up would have to wait a while longer.

He sighed and willed the parchment's charm to show him the details of the bloodwork. As his bored eyes scanned the parchment before him he bolted up, ignoring the screaming protests his brain was throwing at him. _How could this be? Is this a joke? No, it could not be…The King must be told immediately!_

He all but ran out of the Gringotts lobby, leaving many curious goblins. Goldclaw was legendary for his love of decorum. What could possibly have caused him to behave the way he had just done?

* * *

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" came the familiar cry and Eliezer sighed before transforming into the old lord's form. His bright idea of finding a human nursemaid had been uncharitably shot down by Avnas when she had visited the human world briefly. In retrospect, he had to admit that perhaps he HAD not thought of a minor flaw or two.

Any wizard or witch he tried to hire would see him as the kidnapper of their Savior, who was currently waiting for his diapers to be changed. Any mundane human could not possibly be expected to reconcile the existence of magic and daemons. Daemons were something even magical folk did not believe in, after all.

_But still, to call my idea "a stinking pile of foliot heaping"! Foliots don't even possess the ability to carry out that function! Who's stupid now?_ he grumbled to himself as he neared Harry, who was very much capable of performing the function that daemons could not, and demonstrated it frequently with great enthusiasm.

_I wonder if the goblins have gotten my little puzzle yet_ he snickered to himself as he began the process he was now an expert at. It was a comical sight indeed, a powerful spirit cackling to himself and formulating grand plots while wiping a baby's behind.

* * *

Goblin King Gornuk was involved in his favorite pastimes – drawing up greatly convoluted legal documents that would lead to the unfortunate financial destitution of those who had been less than courteous in their dealings with the goblins. In this case, the documents were regarding a loan that would reduce the applicant to a puddle of spinal fluid should she attempt to decipher it. The loan itself had been requested by Dolores Umbridge, who had filed the application, called the goblin that attending to her a "pathetic excuse of magical sentience" before waddling away, throwing simpering smiles at the Lords present in the bank as she did so.

Gornuk giggled to himself in a very un-kinglike manner as he threw in a particularly nasty clause in the fine print that required the interest rate to be 20% a week. _The hag fashions herself to be superior. Even my goblin warriors would find her repulsive_ he snorted to himself.

Just then, the guards to the room opened the door, and Goldclaw rushed in breathlessly before bowing low. He frowned. Senior Accounts were indeed allowed immediate entry in case of extreme emergencies. He set his quill aside and spoke in a harsh tone "Rise, and get to the heart of the matter Goldclaw." He had never been one for needless pleasantry.

"This, my King," said Goldclaw, as he approached the King and passed him what appeared to be a standard Lineage ascertaining form. Frowning, he opened the parchment.

It took every ounce of self-control the goblin had not to drop the piece of parchment in shock.

_Pandaemonium has awoken once more. And now a question for old friends: Are all ravens black?_

"What does it mean, my liege," asked Goldclaw apprehensively. The very fact that the parchment had stunned the king into silence indicated the gravity of the matter.

Gornuk stared at the parchment for a moment longer before snapping his fingers and calling for grog.

"Old friends walk this realm again my friend. Interesting times lie ahead of us. Fortify yourself while you still can." It was royal code for saying "Get piss drunk and stumble through it somehow."

* * *

A white raven, meanwhile, was thinking less-than-acceptable thoughts that people would normally expect from ancient and wise being such as himself. Getting Andromalius to watch over Harry (Yes, he had started referring to the brat by name now) had taken only a small trick. The double-headed coin might very well have been one of humanity's only meaningful contributions to the world.

_I wonder if the dunce still hasn't figured it out _Eliezer thought to himself idly as he flew into an entry point in Gringotts where most of the owls seemed to be going. He was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his decision. He did not want to return and find a human baby trying to squeeze the life out of an imp while Andromalius encouraged him.

Shuddering slightly, the raven landed on a nearby perch and waiting for the goblin attendant to notice him. Hopefully, the goblins had gotten his message. Becoming a novelty pet for a Gringotts attendant was not what he had envisioned for the day. Thankfully, the goblin seemed to have been given very strict instructions indeed. Eliezer found himself grabbed unceremoniously as the attendant ran through finely-crafted tunnels.

"An unusual raven, milord, as you asked me to look for," the attendant said, bowing low to the king. The raven squawked indignantly as it was waved in the air like a pamphlet.

"Very well. Leave it here and leave," order a goblin that appeared to be the king. Eliezer rolled his eyes – or at least as well he could in the form of a raven. Goblins were indeed old friends of the daemons, but for the life of him, he still couldn't get over how similar they all looked. Not that humans were any better.

Gornuk looked around speculatively before dismissing his guards. If this bird was just that, and not the raven he was looking for, he would look like a fool in front of him men for trying to communicate with poultry.

As soon as everyone had left, Gornuk looked inquiringly at the raven, deciding that any intelligent being would respond to his verbal cues. He furtively checked with his hand to see if his attendant had refilled his supply of grog. It had been done. He was ready.

* * *

Eliezer was half-tempted to wait the goblin king out. But something told him that every moment Harry and Andromalius spent alone together was a bad idea. He had to finish this fast. He shifted form and assumed the shape of Lord Aristide. The goblins might as well become acquainted with the form that most magicians would know him by during his time in their world.

"Greetings, O King. I come to reaffirm the friendship that goblins and daemons have shared since olden times. My name is Eliezer, of the Council of Pandaemonium," said Eliezer. It took great effort for him to be this serious or formal. But the goblins would be a great boon for the years he would have to be here. It would greatly help a potential alliance if he didn't put his feet up and call the king "Wee earsies" just yet. Maybe after they had exchanged pleasantries.

Gornuk, for his part, found it odd to be conversing with the representative of a group of beings that had been relegated to legends and childhood stories over the centuries. But the royal family had always drilled into successive generations various facts and anecdotes of how goblins and daemons had forged their alliance. It had mostly been due to the fact that magicians treated them both like inferior tools. It had grown beyond a hatred of their common enemy, however, and evolved into a genuine alliance. Collectively, they had been able to work around restrictions placed on them by humans occasionally and screw them over greatly.

"Greetings, master daemon. I confess, even amongst my people, the daemons had faded into legend. But stories of our alliance with the daemons are well known. It honors me to renew this alliance. Let us dispense with the formalities," he replied, with a touch of his characteristic impatience. The meeting was going well so far. Perhaps he would not need the grog after all. But the core questions had not yet been asked.

"Thank you. Daemons and formal affairs have always been a poor fit, Gornuk," replied Eliezer. Using the king's name might be going a bit more informal than was asked for, but he took it as a cautious risk. The king seemed familiar enough with the shared history of their races, and the gesture could be explained as one of friendship.

_Man I hate politics. It was bad enough surrounded by it when I was enslaved by summoners_ Eliezer mused to himself, before proceeding.

"To the point now. An unusual state of affairs have come about. Wizards are still unaware of daemons, and have not explicitly recalled us to this world. However…" and at this point, Eliezer gave him the brief version of what had happened. He intentionally left out the identity of the infant connected to the portals for the time being.

The goblin king bared his teeth almost reflexively as he considered the information he had been given. "You take me for a fool, Eliezer? It has not escaped my notice that not a single name was present in your narrative. WHO are the people bound by this prophecy?" he growled.

Eliezer was not threatened. He recalled from experience that goblins were honorable if dealt with properly. But properly meant full disclosure from both ends. Anything less would lead to suspicion and distrust.

"My apologies, Gornuk. I merely wished to ascertain that your race still holds true to the same beliefs. It has been many centuries after all," replied Eliezer, injecting a touch of apology into his tone.

Gornuk said nothing, merely waiting for the full answer.

"The boy's name is Harry Potter."

Gornuk's imperturbable mask slipped at this.

"The logical conclusion would be that the other person is this self-styled Dark Lord," he said, managing to keep the surprise out of his voice. It was not hard, considering his voice was filled with derision at the reference to Voldemort.

Eliezer nodded.

"You see our problem. We cannot eradicate this Voldemort character ourselves. The prophecy means we can only act indirectly."

"For that you would need to help one of them," mused Gornuk. "And since this dark lord seems to be in hiding at the very least, that only leaves…"

Eliezer smiled widely. He liked Gornuk. The goblin made good use of his faculties. But then, he'd have to do so in order to rule over a race known for its cunningness.

"Harry Potter. I've taken him into my protection, you see," he said, before rushing ahead with the explanation he knew Gornuk would want. He told Gornuk about how Harry's relatives were beginning their abuse on the child already, as well as about Dumbledore and the soul fragment in Harry's scar. He left out the part where he had to change diapers. He was not sure Gornuk would do more than laugh at him.

Gornuk snorted darkly before bringing out his flask of grog. It seemed he would need it after all. "And humans call us animals. Goblins would never treat their young the way _Dumbledore_ is," he snapped out before taking a swig out of his flask. Eliezer narrowed his eyes. What could the goblins have against Dumbledore? But that was for another time. Now, he needed to solidify his identity.

"We have years to discuss the finer details, Gornuk. But I'm sure you need a reason to throw your support behind me. Goblins do not interfere in human politics after all."

"That is true. The fact that you know this means you already have something in mind?"

"Correct. I will tell Harry Potter the whole matter when he turns ten or eleven – That age was old enough for children to start working in the olden times. They certainly possess enough intelligence by then. I gather humans have an unfortunate tendency to restrain their young ones until they are eighteen or nineteen?" Eliezer asked idly, before shaking his head and getting back to the point.

"He will grow up to be an open-minded human, Gornuk. That is all I hope to accomplish (_If Andromalius does not turn him into a bloodthirsty warriors, he thought to himself)_. Pandaemonium will be drawn into the human world again. That the portals to Pandaemonium are so closely linked to two of the most prominent figures in British magical history makes this a certainty, one way or another. I wish to cast a pre-emptive blow on wizarding society."

Gornuk furrowed his brows and concentrated, but could not fathom what Eliezer meant. Suddenly, the phrase "open-minded human" came to mind. A devilish grin began to form on his face.

"You wish for the child to be free of prejudices. Prejudices against daemons."

"And prejudices against goblins too. And every other race out there," confirmed Eliezer, unable to resist the smug smile forming on his face. He knew that the reason daemons and goblins hated humans so badly were these prejudices. For someone like Harry Potter to grow up without generalized prejudices meant that great change was possible. For the first time for a while in British society, the status quo could change for the better.

"I believe this is an investment that is worth the risk, Eliezer. What do you need?" asked Gornuk, still smiling madly. It was good that his guards had been sent away. They would have been astonished at his behavior.

"Approval of the Lordship. A Gringotts bank account. Absolute secrecy of Harry Potter's location. And, when the time comes, resources to help him learn what he wishes. I know the goblins have a great repository of magical knowledge. The daemons suggested that particular plan," explained Eliezer, seeing that Gornuk looked confused.

Gornuk thought for a moment, tapping a long, sharp nail on the stone table. He then gave a single nod. "It will be done."

* * *

I felt elated that the meeting with Gornuk had gone so well. My position as Lord Aristide would now be cemented in wizarding society. But it was what Gornuk had said as I was leaving that greatly intrigued me.

"_You might be interested to know, Eliezer, that the boy's godfather was convicted of betraying his family to the dark wizard. But there are some interesting discrepancies in this story. To not even give the man a trial…rather suspicious, don't you think?" the smile Gornuk had given then had been truly frightening. _

I shuddered slightly. The goblins made great allies, but I also knew that they could be terrifying enemies. Their almost ferocious intelligence made them the best of bankers, but it had also made them great warriors in the past. I had a feeling that they had merely chosen to wage war on a different level when they created their bank.

_A godfather_ I mused idly as I flew back in raven form. I could, of course, reach the mansion instantly, but flying helped me think. I did what I had not done in a while, and raided the memories of ol' Lucius that I had stored away in my mind. In a few minutes, I had what I wanted. Lucius had been ecstatic to discover that the Lord Black had been falsely accused. It made his son's claim to the Black title that much easier.

I shuddered at the thought of a miniature Lucius. The world did not need another arrogant albino ferret. _Perhaps I should send Decarabia to free this Black _I pondered as I prepared to shift my essence to the mansion. I was done thinking after all.

As I appeared in the mansion, I assumed a humanoid form and almost ran in the direction of Harry's crib. What would Andromalius have done to him?

As I entered the room, my mouth dropped open. It was a truly disturbing sight to see Andromalius crooning a lullaby, while Harry giggled and rolled around the crib. Then a far worse thought entered my head – _Andromalius is a better guardian than me?!_

A very dejected raven could be seen leaving the mansion and flying in the direction of Azkaban. _Screw sending Decarabia. I feel like hitting people now. Many, many people._

* * *

**That's it folks. It was a very quick update, and in keeping with my usual length for chapters. The pace is picking up. Sirius will be rescued in the next chapter, and we will finally see Harry growing up. About time huh? :P In Chapter 6, Harry will receive his Hogwarts letter. Your wait is nearly at an end.**

**As always, _please take the time to drop a review_. Your feedback helps me refine the story. It truly does.**


	5. Chapter 5: Black Deaths, Constellations

**Here's the next update! **

**So, the reasons reviews are quite essential to me is that I can't effectively beta my own work. I can beta other stories pretty well, but I tend to be really, really, critical of my own work, to the point where I would be writing less than 200 words a week. I depend on reviews to tell me where I'm going wrong, what can be made better, etc... Please help me out!**

**That's it for the pre-story rant. Hope you enjoy the chapter. **

* * *

Azkaban looked as inviting as a troll in a ballet outfit, and Guard Parkinson whimpered to himself slightly as he set foot on the rickety old boat that would take him to Azkaban. Apparition or portkeying on or near the island was completely impossible of course. Even the Ministry wasn't that stupid. _I run through the Atrium naked ONE time and they send me here. ONE TIME! It had to be better than those ridiculous stitched tablecloth dresses Dumbledore wears_ he moaned to himself morosely as the boat set off at a slow pace, as if giving him time to contemplate his destination.

Alfred Parkinson was a minor Death Eater, and distant part of the Noble Parkinson family. He had, like many before him, taken the Imperius route, and ended up with a job guarding the Ministry of Magic. He often snickered at the irony.

Lord Bramwell Parkinson had been less than impressed at his relative's drunken streaking, especially when vials of the memory began to circulate among the Lords of the Wizengamot. Some damage control became necessary for the good of the Parkinson name,, and young Alfred found himself on what the guards liked to call the "death watch."

He was too busy drowning in self-pity and looking at a picture of himself guarding the Ministry of Sports to notice a small bug hiding carefully under a fold of his robes. The bug was not happy. Its carrier smelled like _eau de rotten asparagus_, and it had a very sensitive sense of smell. It resolved that this man would one day experience great pain. And perhaps a thorough bath. It was not sure in which order.

The boat soon came ashore, and Parkinson steeled himself, looking less like a wet fish and more like a dry stick instead. Already he could feel the coldness. The cold seemed to cut past his body like it didn't even exist, aiming straight for his heart, his very soul. All his happy memories, him with his teddy bear at five, him with his teddy bear at ten, him with his teddy bear yesterday, they seemed to dissolve from his very being.

A lone figure walked out of the prison before spotting Parkinson and yelling, "Planning on standing there all day princess? Get your stupid ass in here, it's the only place the dementors can't enter!"

At the words "Dementors can't enter", Parkinson started running as if his toy palace lay inside of the dark, damp building that the figure came from. Upon closer inspection, the man looked haggard, as if he had aged more than ten years since entering the island.

"Booze inside. Newbie cleans up for the first week. Sit tight and hope the wards don't go off. We only need to intervene in case of a possible escape," came the brief instructions before the slightly rotting door closed. Outside, an insect sprouted wings and rapidly flew towards the prison. Dementors did not affect it. How could they?

* * *

Sirius Black was laying down with his tongue out, panting heavily as he so often- _Dammit, I need to stop thinking like a dog. But I do pant heavily a lot...especially during the night. Especially when I have company..._A lecherous grin - if such a thing could exist on a dog's face - spread across the Grim's face. He had learned quickly that his animagus form greatly slowed down the effect of the Dementors. At this rate, he would remain relatively undisturbed for the first month at least. _After that_...the grin on the Grim's face faded.

He was most surprised when an insect crawled into his cells. Nothing living ever thrived in Azkaban. The grim got up and padded over curiously to the insect, sniffing it and trying to understand how it was here. The next minute, the Grim howled with its version of a surprised yell, and leapt to the far side of the cell as the insect transformed into a refined-looking middle-aged man.

The man seemed to be completely unaffected by the Dementors. Nor did they seem to even detect him, for the grim couldn't hear the now familiar rasping sound draw any closer. The man himself sniffed himself, and for some reason, muttered, "Rotten asparagus...I'll kill the little sod."

Sirius shook his head violently as only a dog could, convinced that he had started hallucinating.

The middle-aged man looked at him derisively before speaking softly but firmly, "My name is Lord Aristide. I'm here to rescue you. Stay in your dog form, and be silent. As to why you should trust me, I have two words for you - Harry Potter."

Several minutes later, a Grim trotted weakly towards the shoreline. A flea jumped off it, before turning into a gargoyle, grabbing the dog as if it were a weightless child, and taking off with ferocious speed. In the rundown shack behind them, the guards drank steadily as Guard Parkinson began to clean up the ramshackled room. It would be only be a short while before he collapsed from exhaustion.

* * *

I rolled my eyes as the dog yelped when I finally dropped him after what seemed to be forever. The idiot didn't seem to realize that the drop was less than two feet. The grim sprawled over the ground in a very un-Grimlike manner, while I made a much more graceful landing.

"You can change back when you're inside the mansion," I said before transforming back into a man and walking towards the mansion. The grim followed behind me after hesitating for a moment. I felt like flicking it on the nose. _What's the point at hesitating at this stage?_

As I walked into the main hallway, I realized that Dantalion had replaced Andromalius in caring for the child. Just as I was about to speak to him, I heard a faint voice behind me.

"Why is a giant pink baby bottle feeding Harry?" asked Sirius Black faintly, now in his human form.

"With wings," I supplied helpfully.

"With wings," he repeated mechanically before his eyes rolled up and he collapsed on the floor. I sighed and dragged him to the nearest seat. This would be a long conversation.

* * *

Gornuk roared with laughter as he surveyed the headline of the paper before him:

_**SIRIUS BLACK MISSING FROM AZKABAN, PRESUMED DEAD**_

_BLACK'S CELL HAD A MESSAGE THAT SUGGESTED A REVENGE KILLING; MINISTRY SAID TO BE PURSUING ALL LEADS NONETHELESS_

"What now, 'Lord Aristide'?" he asked, caressing his sword gently with one fingernail. The metal sang in response, almost as if sharing his amusement.

"Tomorrow, declare Sirius Black's will reading. That should ensure that the Ministry only pretends to look for him. Going by what you say, they seem to take you at your word for most things. Sirius told me that his will leaves his properties, wealth, and title to young Harry Potter, though the Will never refers to him by name directly. Keep it that way. It will make a great many politicians nervous indeed, to be unaware of whom the next Lord Black is. The position holds great influence after all," replied Eliezer, his eyes dancing with amusement.

He had, at some level, missed this intrigue. After watching politics play out in legendary courts like those of Solomon, Alexander, and Arthur, the political scenario in modern day Britain seemed tame by comparison.

Gornuk pondered the decision for a minute.

"This is the point of no recall, Eliezer," he said finally, "Should this plan go awry and Black be discovered, I hope you're damn well committed to your path, because the goblins cannot explain this away to the ministry, not even to a bumbling idiot like Fudge. Now...how do you plan to handle his identity after his 'death'?"

"Some changes to his physical appearance and staying out of the public eye for a while will mean that no one will recognize him in...say...nine or ten years," I replied easily, "As for an official identity, I believe that with those physical changes, I can easily pass him off as my son. The Aristide family is growing exceedingly fast, isn't it?"

Eliezer's expression then turned serious. It unnerved Gornuk slightly.

"I want the portals closed and Pandaemonium back to normal, Gornuk. And...I have somewhat grown to care for the Potter child. Not to mention this could well be the only chance we have to beat some sense into race that, unfortunately, can control us. I am committed," Eliezer finished. It was the first time he'd acknowledged the niggling affection that had been growing inside of him.

To his credit, Gornuk's face did not move a muscle, even after hearing Eliezer's proclamation. Finally, a ferocious grin began to grow on his face. "So be it. Tomorrow, Sirius Black shall die."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, Defeater-of-Grindelwald, and Savior-of-lemon-drops was just about to take a little nap. Minerva had very helpfully agreed to take care of most of the paperwork that had to do with the start of the school year. The names of children who would one day be able to attend Hogwarts would appear in the Book of Names (quite helpfully titled, he had to admit to himself), and Minerva would oversee the dispatchment of letters to those who would be of age to attend Hogwarts this very year.

He had barely started nodding off when Minerva burst into the room again, looking completely panicked. Albus jerked his head up, looked at Minerva, and felt slightly concerned. She was a stickler for decorum after all.

_I wonder what made her act like this? Could she have noticed that I diverted some of the school's funds to keep that wretched lemon drop company in business? Surely she could not have…_ he fretted internally. Outwardly, however, he projected a soothing aura, waiting for her to explain herself. He didn't have to wait long.

"Albus, it's Harry!H-He's been stricken out from the Book of Names! You know what that means!" she said, her voice at a very high pitch, before shoving the ancient book under his - admittedly - rather large nose. He saw what had upset Minerva so much.

Parkinson, Pansy

Potter, Harry

Pylion, Zachary

A strike only appeared if the child in question no longer existed.

"That is simply not possible, Minerva. Harry is safe with his loving relatives. Besides, the blood wards will protect him you know. My instruments would have notified me if-"

Almost as if waiting for this moment, the silver instruments on Dumbledore's desk suddenly stopped humming and throwing up little puffs of smoke. The silence was eerie.

"Yes...well…" floundered Dumbledore, "I'm sure his relatives merely wanted to go on a nice vacation to the beach with their nephew."

"Albus!" said Minerva sternly, "How can you be so calm? This is _Harry Potter_ we're talking about! I insist that you check up on him at least. You're the one who wanted to leave him with those clothed apes!"

Albus sighed, and gave up on his nap for the present moment. If he did do what she said, he would have to suffer her wrath for ten more years until he was proved right and Harry Potter entered Hogwarts unscathed.

"Very well, Minerva, though I do think your reaction is a tad overboard," he said quietly, trying to look as if he was humoring the whims of a petulant child.

"_Go_, Albus. Unless _you _want to be the one addressing envelopes from now on."

Barely a second had passed since the threat was uttered, and Albus was gone. Minerva sniffed disapprovingly at how well her blackmail had worked before sweeping away from the room.

* * *

Vernon was having a very nice evening indeed. Darling Petunia had made him fresh crumpets to go with his evening tea, and Dudley was throwing spoonfuls of porridge on nearby wall.

"Little tyke has a hell of an arm already. He's meant for great things, pet. Maybe even boxing," he had said gruffly to Petunia before turning back to the television. The news anchor was droning on and on, while next door, the Maynards were having one of their many domestic fights.

Vernon felt profoundly at peace with the world at that moment. _Peaceful. Normal. None of those ruddy freaks around_ he thought happily, just as the doorbell rang.

_Must be the playpen I ordered for little Dudders_ Vernon thought to himself, as he walked slowly towards the door. He opened the door, only to immediately turn purple. He had no idea who this man was, but the very way he looked made blood rush to Vernon's head.

"What do you want?" he snapped, not caring that the old man at the door looked rather hurt at this rude greeting.

"Ah, good morning Mr. Dursley. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mug- Wait! Wait!" he hastened as Vernon began to shut the door.

"Make it quick, I don't want any of your freakishness rubbing off on us," snarled Vernon, feeling rather pleased that he had some measure of power in the conversation.

"I was wondering what happened to Harry Potter. You see, I was the one who left him here to be cared for by your loving selves," said the man, his eyes twinkling in a very irritating manner.

"Ha! So you're the one without any sense at all, eh? Who leaves a baby on someone's doorstep? What do you think you are, the fairy tale stork? Old coot, stay the hell away from me and Petunia!" yelled Vernon, before flinching and making sure there was no one nearby who'd heard him. He decided to finish the conversation.

"As for that devilish little spawn, one of you freaks came by and adopted him. We signed all the papers. It's official now. We don't have to do anything about him any more!" shouted Vernon victoriously, and slammed the door in the old man's fate.

He walked back into the kitchen, where Petunia looked at his inquiringly. "I gave him what-not, love. Maybe now they'll stay the hell away from us," he said gruffly before glaring at his tea, which was now cold. To complete the evening, Dudley chose that moment to throw some porridge at him. It was not a good evening for Vernon Dursley. Not a good evening at all.

* * *

"What do you mean look for other Harrys in the book?" asked McGonagall incredulously, looking up at Albus Dumbledore, who looked very sorry for himself at the moment.

"Surely, my dear, there's the chance that whoever adopted young Harry only changed his last name? We still stand a chance of finding him if we search the Book carefully enough," said Albus, his eyes twinkling with desperation.

"Albus…" said Minerva, speaking slowly, as if to a child, "Harry is the first name of the _Boy-Who-Lived_. Hundreds of parents all over Britain are naming their children after them. The Book already has _dozens_ of Harrys in it. If you want to find and visit each one, that's your crusade, not mine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have letters to send," said Minerva primly before leaving the office.

Albus looked at Fawkes miserably. Fawkes felt like smacking his silly master over the head with his wing, but settled for singing a half-hearted tune of encouragement.

Albus looked at Fawkes gratefully. "Thank you, my dear Fawkes." he said genially. Fawkes didn't bother to look up from preening himself.

* * *

_**Four Years Later…**_

Sirius Blac- No, Orion Aristide was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying some bacon and eggs. Life had greatly improved for him since the time he had been broken out of Azkaban. He had a new identity, he had been given a second chance to keep him promise to James and Lily, and his happy memories stayed with him.

_James, Lily...You would be so proud of Harry. I wish you were here. _His pensive mood was not allowed to continue, as a hyperactive five year old ran squealing into the room.

"Siwius! Siwius!" squealed the toddler, bouncing on his toes. His emerald eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Harry...it's Orion, remember?" corrected Sirius half-heartedly, though he was too busy enjoying the energy radiating off Harry.

"Andy said I should squish people. He said I'll be a mighty wawwior!" yelled Harry, swinging an imaginary sword around. "Die, puny human!"

Sirius sighed, and his face darkened. He covered Harry's ears with his hands before yelling

"Eliezer! Your stupid daemon friend is turning Harry bloodthirsty! I won't have him hating his own race! I just won't!"

"But I was just being encouraging!" whined Andromalius from the nearby room.

_James, Lily...Help me._

* * *

_**Three more years later… **_

"I thought you needed a wand to do magic?" asked Harry curiously, as Eliezer flew around him in the shape of a winged serpent.

"That's how most magicians do it," admitted Eliezer, "But you see, a wand is more of a crutch. Ptolemy found that using a wand is the reason wandless magic becomes so difficult later on. But if a child never had the crutch to begin with, magic would be very difficult at first, but it would become easier and more efficient later on."

"Sort of like skipping a training broom and moving straight on to a proper racing broom?" asked Sirius, who was standing in a corner, just as interested as Harry.

"Something like that, yes. Risky, but very rewarding. And me being here means I can fix something if Harry goes wrong," agreed Eliezer, "Of course, we daemons never found the right moment to let other magicians know about this innovative way to make their heirs so much stronger."

"Yes, it was a case of never finding the right moment, I'm sure," commented Sirius, his lips twitching slightly.

"Yes...well...ahem...shut up, _son_, I'm trying to teach junior here," snapped Eliezer.

"Yeah, shut up Padfoot," grinned Harry, ignoring the fake crestfallen look on his godfather's face.

"Alright. For the first year, I'll let you use your hand Harry. But it's all in the mind really. Now, close your eyes. Focus on your own body. Within you is your magical core. Find it. Explore it…"

* * *

_**One more year later…**_

"Now, Harry, tell me. What is the weakest point of a magician?" asked Decarabia, spinning around lazily in his starfish form.

"There are a few aren't there? Seeing magic as an explanation in itself rather than a phenomenon to be studied. Using faulty logic like 'Something needs to be done. This is something. Therefore I must do it.' Misunderstanding the fundamental nature of how magic works. Did I get them all?" asked Harry thoughtfully, while nursing a cup of hot chocolate.

Decarabia chuckled before replying, "The first is the major weakness, little one. I am afraid the rest will vary depending on the wizard. Now, what is the most dangerous way to approach a plan?"

Harry scrunched up his face as he thought intently. After a few minutes, he hesitantly replied, "To...To plan too far ahead?"

Avnas rapped Harry's head lightly with her hand and urged, "Remember what we discussed about too many moving elements?"

"OH! I remember now. Never take anything than the simplest way out. The simplest plan leaves more room to evolve with the situation," recited Harry from memory, before standing up and stretching.

"Okay, I'm going to make Andy give me targets for spell practice again. See you later Uncle Car!" he yelled, already running away from the study.

"Surprisingly endearing for a human," mused Decarabia as he continued to spin around the room. Avnas hummed in agreement.

* * *

_**Harry's 10th Birthday**_

"We need to tell him, Sirius," said Eliezer, his face uncharacteristically serious.

"I don't know, Eliezer. He isn't even in his teen years yet! Can't we let him enjoy at least one year at Hogwarts?" asked Sirius desperately, looking out of the window where Harry was running around as Dantalion chased him.

"Please tell me you're joking," said Eliezer, looking at Sirius incredulously, "That makes us no different from the old goat. You should have heard him. "Harry should have a childhood" he said. The only reason I waited this long was because human children need to reach a certain level of growth to understand something as volatile as this. Harry's reached that stage now."

Sirius said nothing as he looked into his whisky glass, his face now inscrutable. Time passed slowly.

"It might break him," he replied finally.

"No," said Eliezer firmly, "He might take a while to recover from the shock. He might take a while to think through the implications. But he'll pull through it in the end, and be stronger for it."

"I thought you thought very little of humans?" asked Sirius with a small smile, considering the changes he had observed in the daemons over the years.

"I did. I do. But Harry's different," said Eliezer, smiling wolfishly, "He was raised by daemons after all."

Sirius laughed aloud, before sobering up again. "Tomorrow, then."

Eliezer nodded sharply.

"Tomorrow. I'll go and recover the prophecy orb today."

* * *

_**One week before Harry's Eleventh birthday…**_

"Eliezer! Sirius! Everyone! It's here! The letter's here, the Hogwarts letter's her!"

* * *

**So, there we go. We're finally here. Harry's adventure is about to start. About time, huh? :P I'm aware that I'm switching between quite a few styles of writing throughout the story. It's just me experimenting to see if it's a good way of narrating certain events.**

**Important Question:****Who do you think Harry should meet on the Hogwarts express? Throw your preferences in, and maybe the top favorites will be part of the people Harry meets. Tick tock, tick tock...What are you waiting for? Vote! Vote! Vote! xD****  
**


	6. Chapter 6: Scimitars and Raiju Claws

**A/N: I'm so sorry to have taken this long! It's what happens when you get extremely sick, and also have research to work on. I'll try to get back on track with regular updates as soon as possible, I promise.**

**As a poor apology, I've made this chapter my longest yet. Nearly 5k words.**

**As always, read and review! I can't make the story better if you don't help me along with suggestions :D**

**EDIT: Don't I feel silly. I still addressed the letter to Harry's old name. Thank you to the reviewer who pointed this out.**

* * *

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Aristide,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at __Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry__. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on __1 September__. We await your owl by no later than __31 July__._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry didn't know why he was so excited at the prospect of being invited to a place where he would most likely face many challenges. A part of him was already tensing at the prospect of being near the man who had nearly ruined his life. He already knew what Eliezer had saved him from. When Harry had found out that he was adopted (and it took no great skill in biology to make the connection when his parent was a different kind of existence altogether) the first thing he had asked for was a chance to see his relatives. Two hours of observing them told Harry all he needed to know, and he knew that Dumbledore had a great deal to answer for.

Despite the obvious danger that he would face, he was also looking forward to socializing with people of his own age, for a change. He enjoyed his interactions with Sirius, though a large portion of them involved him being 'bait' for any young lady that caught Sirius' fancy (and there were hundreds of those), Harry felt the need for friends his own age. He would need good friends, and many of them, if he was to accomplish what Ragnok and Eliezer expected from him.

Harry shook his head to clear it of such abstract thoughts, and jumped out of bed, stretching vigorously to shake off his drowsiness. Downstairs, he could hear Sirius, Dantalion and Andromalius celebrating loudly, while Eliezer was yelling at them to quiet down. Harry grinned and left his room, walking towards the kitchen. Kreacher was there, just as surly as usual, though he no longer had any venom in his mutterings. Being surrounded by daemons and a child like Harry for most of the last eight years had changed the stubborn old elf enough that he had at least given his cause up as a lost one. That didn't stop him from insulting Sirius every chance he got, though he did give Eliezer a wide berth.

"Nasty clumps of steam and bratty master making a racket already. They don't be needing breakfast then, oh no, starve them till you can't hear them," muttered the crazy elf as he fried some delicious looking bacon on a pan.

"Morning Kreacher!" Harry said quietly, silently amused at Kreacher's reaction to the loud celebration happening in the nearby room. Kreacher walked over with the usual loaded tray of breakfast and placed it on the table, before going back to his muttering and cooking.

"Harry!" yelled Sirius just then, entering the room with an infectious air of happiness. Harry groaned.

"Shut up, Sirius. It's way too early in the morning to be this happy. I haven't even had my coffee yet!" snapped Harry, throwing a nearby grape at him.

Immediately Sirius' face fell in mock grievance, and he began to talk unhappily, "Lily, James, your son is picking on me again. I couldn't even handle the two of you!"

Harry rolled his eyes, "You know, Sirius, I think you talk to them more now, than when they were actually alive."

"Yes, because of your callous nature!" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, and ducked as Harry threw another piece of fruit at him.

Just then, Eliezer walked into the kitchen, looking both irritated and pleased.

"So, the brat will be leaving the mansion at last!" he exclaimed as he sat in one of the chairs.

"Maybe I'll say no, just to spend more time with my beloved father Eliezer," said Harry teasingly, batting his eyelids at the daemon.

Eliezer pretended to shudder, before his eyes became serious.

"Harry, now that the letter is here, we'll need to go over some plans and contingencies," he said. Harry nodded, becoming serious as well.

"If I remember, Ragnok wanted the three of us to have the final discussion together," reminded Harry.

Eliezer nodded, before picking up a copy of the _Daily Prophet._

"I remember. Eat your breakfast, then we'll leave immediately. We need to get your school supplies too, yes?" asked Eliezer. Harry nodded, before resuming eating at a slightly faster pace.

"Good thing too," nodded Sirius, "The day before departure is usually when everyone decides to visit Diagon Alley. Going this early will be much easier. There'll be fewer people trying to elbow you or step on your foot...Although, there'll be fewer chicks if we go today."

At this thought, Sirius fell into depression, while Harry felt like slamming his head on the table. _Is it too late for me to want some sense of normalcy in my life?_

* * *

True to Sirius' prediction, Diagon Alley was bustling as usual, but was not suffocatingly overcrowded. The Aristide family had become a familiar sight over the last few years. Eliezer was of course in his guise as Lord Aristide, walking imperiously down the cobbled lane. He had recently started to acquire shares in many of the businesses in Diagon Alley, which meant that nearly every shopkeeper knew him, or knew of him.

Sirius was in his disguise as Lord Aristide's son - Orion Aristide. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say that his appearance had been permanently altered through a number of mild transfigurations. His once noticeably British-aristocrat visage now looked like a mix between British and German, which was in keeping with the story behind the Aristide lineage. His once long and shaggy hair was now cut short and neat, while his face was clean-shaven. His eyes now held the green tint that everyone came to associate with the Aristide family.

Next to them, as if to complete a picture of three generations, was Harry. With his black hair, green eyes, and grace, he seemed to resemble the other two Aristides. James Potter's most striking feature was the messy black hair, which Eliezer had tamed with the help of a little magic. Harry Potter was now Harry Aristide in every sense of the name, and his resemblance to James Potter was negligible. His scar was hidden behind a simple glamour.

"Shall we visit Ragnok first? He might even help us with the procurement of supplies," suggested Eliezer.

Harry smiled widely. He enjoyed being around goblins. They had a ferocious sense of wit, once you got close enough to know them.

"Yeah! It's been a while since I've seen uncle Ragnok. I wonder if he still messes around with the contracts of people who annoy him."

Eliezer rolled his eyes and spoke in an exasperated, but amused tone, "Please, that little troll is addicted to doing that now. We'll have to be careful when we open your vault, Harry."

"You'd better not insult his subordinates again. You know they hate it!" warned Harry. While Ragnok and Eliezer had a relationship where each constantly insulted the other, Ragnok's subordinates did not take kindly to being included in it.

"When do I ever cause trouble?" asked Eliezer, his eyes full of innocence.

"That would take three books to describe, and you've only been in the human world for what, ten years?" shot back Harry, just as they reached the steps leading to Gringotts. They fell silent, falling easily into the façade that the Aristides were famous for when around other nobles.

At this point, Sirius spoke, "I have some…business to take care of. I'll meet you two when you're done with the meeting?"

Harry sighed but nodded. Sirius was still uncomfortable about being in the midst of so many lords, many of whom had known him before his 'death'.

"Hello Shitheap, you brain-addled grog guzzler!" Eliezer said cheerily, but softly, as they neared one of the counter. The goblin that had been addressed bared his teeth in irritation.

"It's Shitharp, you insufferable little turd!"

"Yes, that's what I said – Shitheap."

"What my grandfather is trying to say," Harry cut in before the exchange could continue, "is that we'd greatly appreciate it if you could escort us to King Ragnok. He's expecting us."

Shitharp grunted before summoning one of the junior goblins standing nearby.

"Tortter will escort you," he said before gesturing for them to let the next wizard come forward. Luckily, both of them had kept their voices low, so the exchange had gone unnoticed by the rest of the wizards in the hall.

"Alright, lead on, Trotter. Lead on." Harry groaned inaudibly as Eliezer successfully irritated yet another goblin. This would be a long visit.

"Uncle Ragnok!" exclaimed Harry happily, reaching forward to shake Ragnok's hands. Goblins simply did not do hugs. To them, a hug was a sign of the other person trying to get into position to squeeze the air out of them.

"Harry," growled the king in a pleased tone as he shook his favorite human's hand, "I was wondering when you would stop by. I presume you've gotten the letter?"

"Yes, I did. A pity it began with the old goat's name," Harry snorted, before settling into a comfortable chair.

"I do believe we've corrupted Harry with all our Dumbledore jokes," said Eliezer amusedly as he too sat.

"I only started after you explained what he tried to do to me. Those Dursleys were horrible! And they didn't even know who I was. I can only imagine what would have happened if I had actually lived with them. Not to mention he was renting out my body to another soul," Harry said, shuddering slightly.

**_Flashback_**

_Eliezer had been slightly nervous when he had begun to tell Harry everything about his life. He had wanted Harry to form his own opinions. Daemons respected free thinking more than anything else, as their mind had been the only thing that their summoners couldn't control._

_It had ended with Eliezer giving him a very neutral descriptive explanation, leaving out his own opinions almost entirely. Harry had taken nearly a week to think through it all. Despite being Decarabia's student, he was only a young boy after all._

_The first thing he had asked for after this talk was a chance to observe the Dursleys. After a day of discreetly observing them, and even exchanging a few words with Vernon under the pretense of selling him a newspaper, Harry had been horrified._

_"No well-wisher would place me anywhere near that family," was all he had to say. The extraction of the Horcrux had been quite painless. Without a lot of negative emotions to feed off from, the Horcrux never had a chance to firmly encase itself within its container. Moving it to a rat, before destroying it had been relatively easy with the help of blood magic – one of the few streams that goblins could still practice, since it didn't require a wand._

_Seeing the Horcrux scream and manifest itself before being destroyed had cemented Harry's opinion of Dumbledore. The opinion was far from a favorable one._

**_End of flashback_**

Ragnok chuckled, "Well said, young one. Now, I have the items that we spoke of earlier. You'll need all the help you can get in Hogwarts Harry. As far as you are concerned, it is enemy territory."

Harry nodded somberly, feeling a little nervous. He was reasonably confident in his abilities – His magical power was already far beyond what an Auror would possess. This was only enhanced by the fact that he did not require a wand to cast a spell. Nor was he restricted by incantations. He had experience in battle and strategy, though these were only in context of training. Despite this, what scared him was the possibility of isolation. To have to fight the entire structure of Hogwarts alone. He resolved to form connections, and form them fast. He had no illusions of fighting off various hostile forces alone.

Eliezer seemed to sense Harry's nervous, for he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. Ragnok had started taking some objects out of a seemingly small pouch.

"Ah, here we have a more refined version of the connected mirrors that Black came up with. Ingenious idea, I must admit," said Ragnok grudgingly before passing Harry a finely-crafted hand-mirror. It would not look out of place in Harry's wardrobe, as his family was well-known as an aristocratic one.

"Now, we've made some improvements obviously. The mirror is attuned to your magical signature. Even if you're having a conversation with someone, anyone who happens to look at you will merely see you having a conversation with yourself in the mirror."

"Do try to avoid that, dear _grandson_," cut in Eliezer mischievously, "I cannot have people thinking that the scion of the Aristide family suffers from narcissism or some such disorder."

Harry acted the part of the mature one, merely sticking his tongue out at Eliezer in reply.

"As I was saying," growled Ragnok, "The same goes for sound as well. Sound is being sent through the mirror as magical energy, not as sound waves. The energy will directly seek your magical core, and your magic will be the one to convert it for you internally. Eliezer, Sirius, and I will each possess a copy of this mirror. It is activated using our codenames for each other."

Harry nodded, grinning at the fact that codenames had been his idea. There had been a period after watching a slew of military movies when he would constantly give himself and others codenames. It had inspired Eliezer to suggest these names as a security measure, since only their little group knew about them.

"Now, this is a present from me for your eleventh birthday. My apologies for giving it to you so early," said Ragnok, smiling slightly, "And don't you dare refuse it!" he said sternly as Harry opened his mouth.

Harry smiled and shook his head slowly, "I won't…Thank you, uncle Ragnok."

"You haven't even seen it yet!" exclaimed Eliezer indignantly.

"Shut it, smokeface! It's the thought that counts."

Harry ignored the bickering out of habit, choosing to examine the item that Ragnok had placed on the table. It appeared to be a miniature sword, clasped to a chain like a pendant. On its hilt was a small emerald that gleamed brightly. Harry brushed his fingers across the emerald stone, only to yelp as the sword suddenly grew in size, almost impaling Eliezer in the progress.

"Watch it!" said Eliezer, though he was not overly concerned. A sword strike would not cause much damage to essence. That was until he felt the poisonous aura of silver coming off the sword.

Ragnok grinned as he watched Eliezer's eyes grow wide. "A pity it missed. That, young one, is a scimitar. The blade is made of silver, magically enhanced to be durable and sharp of course. It has been enchanted against chipping, rusting, and the like. Silver deals damage to most magical creatures, to say nothing of wand holders. I think a scimitar will suit your style of swordplay best."

Harry nodded, already testing the weight of the blade in his hand. It was quite light, and the hilt was perfect for his hands.

Ragnok nodded at the weapon, "A scimitar forged for adult hands would be larger. But for now, I believe this will do."

"_Thank you, Uncle Ragnok_," said Harry formally in Gobbledygook. He wanted to convey how much such a precious gift meant to him.

Ragnok waved his hand dismissively, "It was the least I could do for my student. Do remember to clean any wizarding blood off it, will you?" he added wickedly. Harry grinned in reply.

Then Eliezer cleared his throat, indicating for Ragnok to take the next item out of the bag. Ragnok took out a polished mahogany box and handed it to Eliezer.

"As you know Harry, the Aristide family is now acknowledged as being of a Noble bloodline, and has been given a seat in the Wizengamot. Every noble family has a Head ring, as well as a Heir ring. Sirius is wearing the Head ring at the moment. The enchantments placed on it means that a daemon wearing it wouldn't be the best of ideas. This Heir ring is for you," said Eliezer, before opening the box.

Harry gasped, taking the ring from its velvet cushion carefully, as if it were made of glass. The ring itself appeared to be hewed out of black cateye, though most of it was covered by a heavy layer of gold. The head of the ring was free of gold, save for the crest, which was of a Quetzalcoatl in flight. Harry put the ring on, gasping as he felt a warm blanket of power envelop him.

"Every ring is designed to protect its wearer for as long as it is able. Me and Sirius have been feeding it magic for almost a month now. I'd say you'll be safe for quite a while," grinned Eliezer.

Ragnok glared at Eliezer. "I'll handle the descriptions if you please. My people did make the damn thing. Now, the black cateye was used because it can retain magic the longest. The ring will create a shield around you if an obviously harmful spell is detected. It's useless against the Unforgiveables, sadly. The ring will vibrate if it senses something harmful in, say, your food or drink, or an object you happen to be holding. It will glow green for compulsions, red for emotion-altering spells, blue if you are attacked mentally, and yellow for poisons. Keep an eye on it constantly."

"Does it also forecast the weather?" asked Harry snarkily, still admiring the ring he was wearing. The significance of this moment was not lost on him. He was part of a family in every sense of the word now. Even if it was a family full of nutbags and playboys.

Eliezer smiled and stood, "Well, that ring's certainly useful. But if someone tries Legilimency n you, I'll be very disappointed if you let them walk away unscathed. Now, let's go. The smell of goblin is becoming unbearable."

Harry groaned and walked out of the room. _Must he ensure that every exit happens with a goblin throwing profanity at us?_

* * *

As the duo reached the stairs, Sirius ran up to them to greet them, "Took you long enough!"

Eliezer raised an eyebrow, "Down, mutt. It's not our fault you're this paranoid."

Sirius rolled his eyebrows before spotting the ring on Harry's finger. "Congratulations pup! You're officially the Heir of a family! Of course, it's also a fake family…run by a daemon…there's no such thing as the Aristide bloodline…but still, congratulations," he finished lamely, before hurriedly changing the topic by showing them some shrunk packages.

"I got all your books, ingredients and instruments Harry. All that's left is a wand. And a pet. That will be your birthday present from me," he said, and started walking before Harry could protest.

The pet shop was weird-smelling, and full of movement and noises. Eliezer had opted to stand outside, saying that it was bad enough he had to be around thousands of humans. Harry knew what he needed – An owl. While the mirror would take care of selective communication, Harry would still need an owl to mail other people, and also to have a credible reason for how he was in touch with people outside Hogwarts.

The first bird to catch his attention was (strangely enough) an Australian magpie. Harry knew that despite their looks, they were agile and would defend themselves ferociously if provoked. This particular magpie was black with large white streaks, and looked at Harry with surprisingly intelligent eyes.

"Hello," Harry murmured softly, cautiously reaching out with his hand. He needed to know if the bird would accept him.

The magpie warbled melodiously before hopping out of its perch to sit on Harry's hand. The store owner came over, sensing a sale in the making.

"Ah, a very unusual choice young sir. She's very selective about who she likes. She'll be a fine familiar indeed."

Harry smiled and told the salesman that he would purchase the bird. Sirius had been examining some purple toads all this while. He handed over ten galleons to the owner, and turned to Harry.

"So, Harry, what are you going to call her?"

Harry considered the question for a moment, before remembering the musical way she had warbled.

"I'll call her Lyra."

Lyra bobbed her head, as if agreeing with him.

* * *

Every eleven year old, magical or muggleborn, looked forward to their first wand. The wand symbolized their ability to cast magic. Harry Aristide, on the other hand, was filled with reluctance at the prospect.

"Don't sulk so much, Harry," sighed Eliezer, "I know that a wand is actually very inhibiting. You've trained to the point where a wand would only hold you back now. But the pretense needs to be kept up. You can't afford to walk around Hogwarts doing wandless magic,that would draw very unnecessary attention towards you."

"But why can't we just carve out a stick and pretend it's a wand?" argued Harry desperately, before giving up and confronting the truth, "Yes, yes, I know. The ministry would get suspicious if no wand from Ollivanders was registered in my name."

Eliezer laughed slightly and ruffled Harry's hair. "Don't worry, Harry. You don't have to use it, you just have to pretend to use it."

On that note, they entered Ollivander's store. Harry sneezed slightly at the dust that seemed to cover everything in the store. He was not surprised when a voice suddenly spoke up from behind him, "Welcome to my humble store, Lord Aristide."

Harry rolled his eyes, wondering if all old men got off from theatrics. "Hello, mister Ollivander," he said politely while Eliezer nodded to him.

Ollivander peered at Harrry closely, to the point where Harry started to feel uncomfortable.

"You do not need a wand," Ollivander stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Harry and Eliezer both tensed up.

"How did you know?" growled Harry, feeling cornered at having been called out so easily.

Ollivander laughed and tapped the side of his forehead with a finger. "My eyes are…special, you see. I see the magical cores in every child who walks through those doors. That is why I have excelled as a wandmaker."

Suddenly, Eliezer gave a bark of laughter. "You lying old sod. You have lenses don't you? You can see on three planes, not just one."

Now it was Ollivander's turn to be surprised. "Until now, Lord Aristide, I have not met another soul who knew of the planes."

Eliezer shrugged elegantly and gestured for Harry to relax.

"You know Harry doesn't need a wand. I do not want to call any…malicious attention to him. What can you do for us, Ollivander?"

Ollivander seemed to be deep in thought, before suddenly snapping his fingers. "Raiju claw. Oak. Eleven inches."

Having said that, he immediately began to bustle at the back of the counter, presumably getting the components ready. As he worked, he also explained the solution to Harry and Eliezer.

"The Raiju is a Japanese magical beast, associated with thunder and lightning. Its claws are designed to accept energy fed to them, and then amplify that energy. Oak, in Norse mythology, is associated with Thor, the god of thunder and lightning. The oak will ensure that the core element is focused properly. Usually, a wand is designed to pull out magic from the core forcefully. While harmful, it is also the only way for most wizards to be capable of magic. In the case of this wand, magic will not be pulled from you. You will feed magic to the wand deliberately. This will ensure that your own magical channels are not destroyed or damaged.

Harry contemplated what he had just learned. The wand would not tamper with his own painstakingly trained pathways. It would amplify any energy that he did feed it. A smile broke out on his face.

"Thank you, mister Ollivander. I never anticipated such an elegant solution to my problem."

Ollivander hummed slightly before straightening up and handing over a wand to Harry. Harry blinked, "That's all the time it takes?"

Ollivander laughed and said, "Most of the work is in preparing the various components. I do that in advance, and keep them in stasis. The actual assembly takes only a few minutes, with enough practice."

The wand did not react when Harry picked it up. Harry sighed in relief, knowing that Ollivander's theory had been right. The wand would wait for magic to be channeled. He fed a trickle of magic into the wand, and smiled as black and gold chains of light flew out of the wand, raveling together to form the shape of a Quetzacoatl.

"Guess I am an Aristide after all," he muttered to himself before placing the wand in the holster that Ollivander gave him.

"Ten galleons for the wand, three for the holster," said Ollivander succinctly. They paid him, and left Diagon Alley, satisfied with what they had accomplished for the day.

* * *

It was nighttime, and Harry changed into his pajamas, ready to retire for the night. He looked up in surprise as he heard a knock on the door, before it opened to reveal Eliezer.

"Eliezer, what's the matter?" he asked, a little concerned. Eliezer usually preferred to leave Harry alone after dinner. Today, however, Eliezer looked serious. It was the most serious Harry had ever seen him, even more serious than he had been when telling Harry the truth about his circumstances.

"Harry. There is one more gift I have for you. No, I should say it is a means to a gift. How well it turns out depends entirely on you."

"Stop beating about the bush, Eliezer. What is it?" Harry asked, now thoroughly curious. It wasn't like Eliezer to dither like this.

"I'm talking about the Naming, Harry. I think you're ready to call a new daemon into existence."

* * *

**Concluding Notes: Yaay, another cliffhanger :P What can I say? My chapters just seem to set themselves up this way!**

**The Naming is going be very important. Daemons are literally given an identity and a mind when a magician Names them. This Naming will be different from the usual ones of course. Harry actually has another daemon helping him. What will the results be? :o**

**Until next time.**


	7. Chapter 7: Where the Tide Begins

**A/N: Unfortunately, I had to rely on Google Translate for the incantations I use in this chapter. If any of you just so happen to know Latin well, I'd love to have your input :P**

**I'll keep it brief. Insert generic disclaimer here**

**Read, review, share, and celebrate.**

* * *

The air was thick with the smell of incense, the only influence that Eliezer would allow for. Most magicians would go to the excess with herbs incense, runes and at least a few spells of punishment. There was a pentagram, of course, but not for Harry. The pentagram was for the daemon that would be called into existence, to help it mould its body for the first time. The only light present came from candles, so as not to blind the daemon.

"Remember what we talked about, Harry. You have to lay yourself bare during the Naming. It was how Ptolemy Named me, and it is a great factor behind my power. Very few magicians knew of this ritual, and we daemons liked it that way. When a magician focuses more on restraining and constricting a daemon during its birth, it will be warped for life."

Harry nodded firmly, knowing the significance of what he was about to do. The first true Naming since Ptolemy himself would be done today, and he would be damned if he messed it up.

"The incense is to calm the daemon and keep it from panicking," continued Eliezer, "But not enough to addle its Name will come to you after the daemon is...birthed," he said and wrinkled his nose slightly, making Harry grin despite the seriousness of the situation.

Near the corners of the room stood Sirius, Avnas, Dantalion and Decarabia. Andromalius had to stay behind to guard the seals to the portals. He had whined after coming up short on dice, something that left Eliezer grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Be careful, Harry," said Sirius. There was nothing else he could say.

"Remember, keep calling out the Name until the daemon recognizes it. We grow at an astonishing rate, but for the first few seconds of our birth, we're completely at bay," reminded Avnas in her usual quiet voice.

"Right, enough stalling. Begin, Harry," said Eliezer, moving to stand with the others.

Harry took a deep breath and began. He called forth his magic and channeled it to his throat.

"**Qui ex hoc mundo ad portam dico spiritus separatur"**

The air began to crackle with energy as he touched a portion of the pentacle delicately, making sure not to smudge it. He began channeling power steadily to the pentacle, as he continued his incantation. The air began to crackle with unseen energy, and the air around him started to distort.

"**Audite vocem meam, iudices cogitationum magiae accipere"**

He opened his usually well shielded mind, offering it up to whatever presence was filling the room. He winced as he felt his mind being touched, not aggressively, but not gently either. Indeed, there seemed to be no emotion at all, and all he could feel was his entire life, emotions, and thoughts being covered in the space of a few seconds. He kept channelling his magic however, determined to see the ritual through to the end.

Power began to created gusts of wind around the room, and he vaguely saw Eliezer cast a protective shield around the other occupans of the felt his magic being drained at an alarming rate. Harry had a powerful magic core - unmatched by most adult wizards. This had only increased after his Horcrux had been firmly sealed, cutting off any chance of it suppressing his power or influencing him.

Even his power would not last forever though, and the circle seemed to tear away his power hungrily, as though determined to drain his core completely. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to be overwhelmed by having both his mind and magic challenged simultaneously. Memories from even his earliest years seemed to be called up, and he even caught brief moments where his very young self had been looking at his parents.

"**Hoc natus sum, et suscipiunt Ignea fraterno sanguine meo"**

Just as he said the last lines, he bit into his thumb and allowed a drop of blood to fall within the pentacle. He fell to his knees as the mental probe ended, and the drain on his magic ceased. Essence began to congeal thickly within the pentacle, causing the eye of every daemon there to widen. The amount of essence gathering was staggering, especially when considered that the daemon would only grow for as long as it was bonded to Harry.

The essence began to condense now, and began to form the outline of a shape. Harry stared intently, waiting for the name to resonate in his head, waiting to call out and Name the daemon who would become his comrade.

The essence which was once colorless now began to gain color and form, and the occupants of the room were stunned to see in the pentacle a great white fox-like beast, easily taller than Sirius, who himself was near feet tall. The body of the beast shone an unearthly white, while its eyes radiated power through electric-green irises. What confounded the daemons gathered there was that the newborn showed no signs of confusion and panic. It simply stared deeply into Harry's eyes - electric green meeting emerald green - and waited.

"**Rasenth,"** intoned Harry with an irrefutable finality, before collapsing from exhaustion.

The ritual completed, Rasenth stepped outside the pentacle and walked towards Harry, staring at his unconscious face curiously.

* * *

"Well," said Decarabia rather shakily. That seemed to sum up the sentiment of the daemons gathered outside of Harry's bedroom, where he was resting. It had been a shock to see a Naming that consumed so much of a magician's magic. Indeed, there had been very few instances where a magician had enough magic to sustain the process for so long. This was

"The young one - Rasenth - his power is easily Marid level already," mused Eliezer as he kept an ear out for a sign that Harry might be waking. Sirius and Rasenth were in the room with Harry, one to watch over him, and the other who still seemed to be scrutinizing Harry intently..

"His Naming was weird. He can't talk yet, so it's not like he's some sort of freakishly fast learner. But he wasn't confused at all, was he?" chipped in Dantalion in a rare moment of serious thought.

"Far from it," mused Avnas, "But it is irrelevant. There haven't been enough proper Namings for there to be a set pattern. For all we know, Eliezer could have just been a wuss about it when Ptolemy tried," she shot at the ancient daemon, making Dantalion roar with laughter.

"Says the spirit who's still incapable of appearing as anything other than a walking candlestick?" threw back Eliezer, "You're one to talk about Naming problems, Avnas."

"My Naming went perfectly. I lack in no area," said Dantalion proudly, puffing out his chest proudly.

The other three daemons looked at each other and shook their heads sadly. In this particular case, ignorance was bliss indeed.

* * *

_**Harry**__._

Harry groaned, feeling nothing but pure weariness. Tiredness seemed to be the only thing that existed. _At least it's not pain_ he groaned to himself as stood up, stumbling as his legs refused to support him properly.

_Where am I? _ he thought to himself blearily. There was nothing but white in whatever direction he looked. No objects, no other color, not even a floor. _Then what am I standing on?_

_**Harry.**_

Harry turned his head towards the voice so quickly that his neck protested painfully. Rasenth stood before him, blending so well with the white around him that he was almost invisible. The only thing that gave him away were the eyes, sparkling with pure energy.

"Where am I?" asked Harry hesitantly, but got no reply. The daemon merely cocked its head at him, not saying a word.

"Oh yeah, you can't talk properly for at least a few days. You won't be fully synchronized to Pandaemonium. Eliezer told me," he said sheepishly, scratching his head.

The daemon padded forward until it was only a few centimeters away from him. _**Harry**_ it said yet again, before lifting one of its paws and striking him in the face, hard.

_What the- _was all Harry could think before the world spun into darkness once again.

* * *

Harry woke up with a startled yell, making Sirius, who had been dozing in a nearby chair, jump up in shock.

"Harry! Are you okay?" he asked anxiously, casting some basic diagnostic charms that he knew. He sighed in relief when he saw that Harry's magical core was replenishing, and no great harm had been caused due to the ritual.

"You! You hit me!" Harry exclaimed in disbelief, looking at Rasenth.

The daemon's eyes seem to sparkle with amusement. Harry growled slightly and turned to look at Sirius.

"I think I'm fine Sirius. I'm just really tired."

"That's good," said Eliezer, walking into the room, a devilish glint in his eye "We have quite the interesting syllabus planned for you till it's time for you to leave."

Harry groaned and tried to will himself back into unconsciousness.

* * *

_**Ten Minutes Before the Hogwarts Express Departs**_

Harry grinned widely as he ran through a seemingly solid wall, only to find himself in a platform filled nearly to the brim. Next to him stood Eliezer, who only rolled his eyes at the cacophony of shrieks, yells, hoots, hisses, snarls and all manner of unusual noises that seemed to pervade the platform.

Sirius was nearly bouncing his excitement, recalling his own platform experiences quite vividly. He managed to restrain himself after a minute, however, and put on the indifferent front that had now come to characterize the members of the Aristide family.

Harry was dressed in formal robes, quite in keeping with what most nobles would wear. What made his family stand out was a "fashion statement" as Eliezer had proudly termed his idea. Sirius had called it retarded.

Harry wore a maroonish-red traveling cloak, plain except for the center of the back, where the Aristide crest was present in large black print. Sirius wore a black cloak with white insignia to match with his black robes. Eliezer himself seemed to be advertising a cloth-cleaning charm with white robes as well as a white cloak, that had the crest in black print. Andromalius was merely dressed as an employee of the family.

Harry rolled his eyes as their attire actually brought forth looks of respect from the other nobles families as they walked by. _Wow. They have the same retarded sense of fashion as Eliezer. Now I feel worried._

_**As well you should be. I'm a week old and I think I already have a better sense of human fashion that that fossil.**_

That came from the daemon resting over his shoulders. Rasenth had grown greatly the past week.

* * *

_**Flackback**_

His connection to Pandaemonium had happened at a greatly accelerated pace, according to the other daemons. Eliezer had merely shrugged wearily, deciding not to be surprised anymore.

Harry had been shocked when the same voice he had heard in his dream-state suddenly woke him up from his sleep two days ago. Rasenth began talking to him as he had been talking all his life, surprising and making Harry grin widely.

When Eliezer had heard of the mental bond, he had slammed his head repeatedly on the kitchen table, muttering, "Don't. Be. Surprised. Don't. Be. Surprised."

When he had recovered, Eliezer and Decarabia mulled over the issue at length, when Decarabia insisted that "Because it's Harry" wasn't a sufficient explanation.

They eventually decided that it _was _indeed Harry - More precisely, Harry's unique situation. Every magician in history, even those like Ptolemy who bore no ill-will to daemons, had still felt caution in the Naming. Harry, probably because he had been surrounded by daemons all his life, did not possess this almost reflexive sense of caution. That, according to Decarabia, could have contributed to Ranseth's abilties enormously.

"Ha! My first explaantion was right after all!" crowed Eleizer, though even he sounded incredulous that he had been right.

Decarabia had smacked the back of his head with one of his fins.

_**End flashback**_

* * *

Rasenth had retained his original form, choosing to compress it enough that he could settle over Harry's first thing Eliezer had done was to make him practice - repeatedly - the knack that would make his essence invisible on all but the seventh plane. Even Ollivander couldn't see past the first three planes. Everyone was reasonably confident that Rasenth would not be noticed unless he wished to be.

_**Are your kind always so irritating in groups? **_asked Rasenth irritably through their bond, making Harry grin internally.

_**You have my memories, see for yourself **_he told Rasenth just as they finally managed to reach the train itself.

"Prank the hell out of them Harry," said Sirius quietly, stepping in front of him and ruffling Harry's hair slightly. In public, the Aristides could not risk any intimate signs of affection. He nodded silently at Rasenth, and stepped away.

Eliezer looked at Harry with a blank face, internally cursing the fact that he couldn't show more emotion.

"Small goals-"

"-and the quickest path to them. I remember," smiled Harry, before his attention was taken away by Andromalius, who squatted down in front of them.

"If anyone gets in your way," whispered Andromalius, his eyes flashing red for a moment, "Burn them. You'll do fine kid," he said before getting up and looking around.

Harry grinned at trademark Andromalius advice, if delivered in a quieter fashion than usual, before checking his pocket to make sure that his shrunken trunk was there. He decided to move on, any more interaction would look unusual in their particular family.

"I'll keep Lyra busy," he said simply before climbing onto one of the carriages and moving away from view. Eliezer and the others stood there for a few more seconds, before Andromalius popped away first.

"Andromalius was crying wasn't he?" asked Sirius idly.

"Like a baby," grinned Eliezer as both of them disappeared from the platform.

* * *

Harry had never been gladder for his training in magic. It was amazing, the number of students who were dragging their trunks around, tripping on them, and stubbing their toes. Ignoring the many yelps of pain, some from even the much older students, Harry opened the door to the first reasonably empty compartment he saw.

Two girls were already sitting in the compartment. A glance was all Harry needed to know that they were magical nobility. _I'm pretty sure they won't react well to rudeness._

He gave them a short bow, just like he had been trained to do, and smiled politely, "May I please share this compartment with you?"

One of them, the brunette, smiled back and nodded almost immediately, while Harry noticed that the other one was scrutinizing him rather closely. He waited patiently for her to answer as well.

_**She seems to have a bit of an attitude, doesn't she? **_commented Rasenth.

_**This from the daemon who smacked me across the face within an hour of being born? **_asked Harry amusedly.

_**Let go already, you're holding onto it like a niffler holds onto shiny objects**_ groaned Rasenth.

_**Hah, we'll see. Either way, it's hard to tell with children from noble families. Their lives are often tough in unusual ways.**_

Just as this dialogue finished, the blonde girl finally gave a short nod, indicating her assent. Harry smiled easily at her and slid opposite to them, taking the other window seat in the compartment.

"My name's Tracy Davis, and this is Daphne Greengrass," said the brunette cheerfully, brown eyes conveying cautious warmth.

"And mine is Harry Aristide, it's a pleasure to meet the both of you," said Harry in a formal tone, "Okay, with the formalities done, why don't we just relax?"

The girls seemed surprised, and Daphne actually smiled, making Rasenth radiate surprise, "I don't think anyone likes speaking the way they train us."

Tracey nodded vigorously in agreement. It seemed to go unsaid that "they" meant _adults. _

"So, the Aristide family huh?" asked Tracey curiously, "You came back to British politics nearly eight years ago , right?"

Harry nodded, impressed. "You're very well informed, Miss Davis," he said.

Tracey glared at him. "Tracey," she commanded.

Harry shivered slightly. Her voice reminded him uncomfortably of Avnas at that moment. "Tracey," he said weakly.

She brightened up immediately, making Harry wonder about her capricious emotional state.

"Our families are part of the very small faction that doesn't side with either of the two radical positions. That means we have to work harder to maintain our position," said Daphne softly.

Harry nodded sympathetically. "Granddad and dad are part of that group now too, so I know what you mean. He's told me a lot of good things about your families," he added, and was glad to see that they seemed to be happy about what he said. It was the truth after all.

The conversation devolved into small talk after that, with Harry doing his best to connect with Tracey and Daphne. He was anxious about making friends his own age. That was quite possibly the one thing that had been lacking in his previous years.

Ransenth had begun to doze off, no doubt bored by the very human conversation. The daemon still had the attention span of a child, which of course he still was. Harry was glad of his small weight on his shoulders, it gave him a sense of comfort.

They were soon interrupted, however, by a blonde. His clothes, while setting him apart as nobility, were also extravagant. This, combined with his almost albino features made Harry cautious immediately. _Ferret family_ said Eliezer's voice in his head, and Harry almost laughed out loud.

"Well then, boys, let's see what sort of riff-raff they have in this compartment," he seemed to be saying to what appeared to be two moving mounds of fat behind him.

"Great," muttered Tracey while Daphne relapsed from being relaxed and set her face into stone again.

The blonde stepped further into sight, sneering at the trio. He seemed almost surprised for a moment, as if surprised that all three didn't seem to be "riff-raff" as he put it. He floundered for a moment, before the sneer came back.

"Well well, Davis and Greengrass."

The two girls ignored him, something which seemed to infuriate the boy. He rounded on Harry, desperate to establish himself somehow.

"And who're you? Some minor house trying to kick the asses of _real_ nobility? I think Crabbe and Goyle need a boy to do some running around for them," he said, and his two minions chuckled slowly.

Harry's eyes flashed, and he remembered what Andromalius told him about annoyances.

He caught Malfoy's eyes and pushed a little magic into his own. The result was staggering. His eyes gleamed with killing intent, the pressure making the young ferret freeze with fear.

He stood up slowly, taking his time to stride over to where Malfoy was whimpering.

"Curious. Hogwarts allows part-ferrets to attend, it would seem," he said softly, maintaining eye contact.

"My name is Harry Aristide." The blonde boy's eyes widened even further. Harry smiled viciously.

"Oh, you've heard of my family I see. Tell me, ferret, perhaps my family should...ah..._run around_ to your estate, yes? A friendly..._visit_," he hissed, almost whispering by now. The blonde shook his head violently, though he still seemed unable to break eye contact.

Harry reached over, grabbed Malfoy's wrist, and twist it sharply behind his back. The Malfoy heir cried out with pain, while the two apes looked at each other uncertainly. Harry kicked the boy out of the compartment, and looked at them with a raised eyebrow. They lumbered out, allowing him to close the door once more.

_**Well. With the posturing over, I'm going back to sleep now. God forgive the next person who disturbs me **_grumbled Rasenth before dozing off again.

Harry sat down, only to realize that both girls were staring at him with wide eyes. He fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Um...something on my face?" he asked after a few seconds, making them break eye contact in embarrassment.

"How did you do that?" demanded Tracey, "You made Daphne's glares look weak in comparison!"

Daphne glared at her viciously for saying that.

Harry laughed lightly and said, "Just a little trick that runs in the family. I'll teach you sometime, if you want. But I Daphne's glares are _way_ more deadly than mine."

Barely had they gotten settled, when the door slid open once again.

"No rest for the wicked," muttered Harry under his breath, to the amusement of the two girls, as a bushy-haired girl came into view.

"Hi, my name is Hermione Granger! I'm helping a classmate Neville find his toad. Have you seen a toad? It's so cool that the school allows pets, don't you think? Did you guys know about Hogwarts before this? I was so excited when I learned about magic! And Professor Dumbledore is so famous! He's in almost every book I've read. He's the reason I want to be in Gryffindor. I really hope I make a good impression on the teachers. What house do you guys want to be in? Oh, and you still haven't told me if you've seen the toad."

She then turned to Tracey and Daphne. "Why aren't you guys in your uniforms yet? It takes longer for us to get dressed you know. You should read the rulebook. It tells us to get dressed half-an-hour in advance. The teachers who wrote know what they're talking about. You should take them seriously. And we're almost there now," she huffed bossily.

_Please god let me be invisible _prayed Harry, but to no avail. Clearly he was next, with the way she turned to him.

"Your hair's all messed up. You should make a good first impression, you know. I don't think anyone will be impressed by messy hair. Why don't you spruce up a little bit before we reach Hogwarts? It's what the rulebook says you know. It says we should be neatly presented."

Harry felt a headache coming on, and contented himself with massaging his forehead slightly, while Tracey and Daphne looked at the strange girl in disbelief.

Hermione fidgeted visibly for a few seconds before bursting out again, "Well?!"

Daphne raised her eyebrow and addressed Tracey, "Tracey, how many questions did she ask us?" Her voice was colder than ice.

Tracey put on a mock confused face and looked at Harry. "I forgot after the first hundred. Did you keep track Harry?"

Harry scrunched up his face, pretending to think hard. "There were questions in there? I think I got lost in all the talking. I thought she just loved listening to herself talk."

"How rude!" exclaimed Hermione, righteous indignance pouring out of her.

Tracey turned back to Daphne, and for the first time, Harry saw how she treated someone on her bad side. She had regarded Malfoy as more of a pest, but Harry found himself swearing never to get on her bad side.

"Listen carefully, you broken record. You barge in here like a blind troll, and treat us to a first-hand viewing of verbal diarrhea," at this, Hermione's face turned bright red. But Tracey was relentless.

"Over the course of throwing up, you somehow feel sanctimonious enough to preach to people whose names you haven't even bothered to _learn_. How dare we? How dare _you_? Thank you for ruining this journey, now leave, before I make you."

The door shut in less than a second, and they were alone again. This time, it was Harry's turn to gawp.

"What?" Tracey asked him innocently.

"I changed my mind," said Harry and grinned, "You're both equally frightening."

_**That's all well and good, but if this is going to happen throughout today, someone will be on the receiving end of a Detonation before the day's done **_muttered Rasenth. Harry send him a wave of sympathy through their mental link. There was not much else he could do.

* * *

The train slowly came to a halt, just as the trio had finished changing. Harry had left the apartment so they could change. Just as he was changing, a red hair boy charged his way through, rudely pushing Harry out of the way after glancing at him for a second. Harry thought he heard him say, "Look for the scar. Look for the scar. That'll be my best mate," as he walked away. Harry felt bile rise up to his throat, but forced it down.

The walk from the station to the lake went without incident, with Harry, Tracey and Daphne getting a boat together, along with another first year called Terry Boot. Harry really didn't know what to make of his journey. He had met two girls, a meeting that would hopefully be the start of an enduring friendship.

There had also been jarring moments, such as the ferret, the bushy-haired nightmare and the ginger stalker. Harry was deeply confused. What would his Hogwarts experience be like? Would it be more bad than good. Would he be able to live, at least for a year, like his father and Sirius had?

Just then, Hogwarts loomed before him, magnificent, inviting. Lights shone brightly within the castle, welcoming them from the downpour of rain that they were in. One thought ran in Harry's head as he looked at the castle, extinguishing all others:

_Beautiful._

* * *

**Concluding Notes: Thanks for reading :) Next chapter, the sorting, and the first day of Hogwarts.**

**Cheers, **

**SK.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**

**So, I've pretty much decided on Daphne. She's comparatively lesser explored, so it should be a lot of fun. Well, here's the next one, a little shorter than the last. Nevertheless, I hope it's a good read.**

**Who do you think should join Harry, Tracey and Daphne? Should someone else join the gang? Let me know.**

**Read and REVIEW! :D**

**MAJOR EDIT: Due to some er...inebriation, the final segment was completely out of sync with the rest of the story. I've simply taken it out, as it isn't really necessary. Thank you to BDude0000 for pointing out the mistake.**

***Looks at bottle* I hate you!**

***picks it up anyways***

**Till next time xD**

* * *

The students disembarked from the boats soon after Harry's first sighting of Hogwarts, and walked slowly up to the castle. Harry stayed close to Daphne and Tracey, but there was no conversation.

_**That was quite the sight **_ remarked Ranseth. Harry rolled eyes, wondering how a week old daemon could already possess such a talent for understatement.

_**Because I was composed of essence, and essence has existed since the dawn of humanity itself**_ sniffed Rasenth haughtily.

_**Yes, yes, you are are incredible, wise and attractive beyond measure. Now hush, go back to sleep **_said Harry exasperatedly. Rasenth could be quite a pain if he hadn't slept well.

_Just another strike against the ferret and the know-it-all_ grumbled Harry, allowing a tiny frown to mar his features. So deeply had he been in thought, that he had missed the entire exchange between the giant man who had led them so far, and a stern-looking woman whose mannerisms reminded Harry of Avnas for some reason. He decided not to mess with her, if at all possible.

She began a very brief introduction, at which point Harry decided to survey his future yearmates. He already knew of what she would talk about. Her instruction was most likely for those who had grown up without any knowledge of the magical world and its machinations.

"This is so boring," muttered Tracey, and Harry had to stifle a grin, while Daphne's face gave nothing away. Harry had come to recognize her public face, and decided to shift his attention elsewhere for the moment.

One boy looked especially miserable, trembling from the cold, and holding onto a toad. His moon-like face had kindly features, though he seemed to look absolutely terrified. Harry frowned. Sirius had told him all about the Longbottom, and this was obviously their son, Neville.

_I'll try to befriend him_ he decided on the spur of the moment. He wanted to try and continue the tradition of friendship that had existed between the Longbottoms and Potters for years, even though nobody would know he was Harry Potter. At least, not yet.

The next person to catch Harry's eye was Draco Malfoy, and here Harry gave him a vicious grin. He was satisfied when Malfoy looked away rapidly, turning even paler with fear. _Andromalius was onto something with his idea. Now, if only he didn't try to beat up everything that moved. That sort of reduces the effectiveness._

"I just can't believe this!" came a loud voice, and Harry looked around, realizing that McGonagall had left them alone in the ante-chamber. The voice itself belonged to the same ginger idiot who had shoved him roughly on the train, and Harry felt amused. He had a feeling he knew what the ginger's problem was.

"What is it Weasel? I bet your family's never seen a room this big huh? Must be a shock, knowing that the kitchen and bedroom are separate parts of a building," sneered Malfoy.

_**That was a good one **_ remarked Rasenth idly. Harry had to agree. It was amusing to see Malfoy's vitriol being directed on someone who, according to him, deserved it.

"Shut it, Malfoy!" yelled Ron, his face going a deep purple with rage, "I haven't found Harry Potter yet. He's supposed to start with us. And when I find him I'm going to be his best mate ever, and we'll wipe out you and your Death Eater father!"

Malfoy snarled and was about to respond, when the doors to the Great Hall fell open. Students who had eagerly crowded around to see the verbal fight now drew even more tightly together as McGonagall gestured for them to move to the front of the hall, where there was a Hat sitting on a wooden stool.

Confused whispers broke around the tightly huddled group as they marched into the Hall. Harry neatly manoeuvred to the fringes of the group, anticipating a lot of stepping on foots and elbows hitting ribs in the thick of the crowd. He looked at the Great Hall curiously, drinking in the sight before him.

The hall was magnificent, even more so because Harry could sense magic, some of it centuries old, vibrating in the Hall. The castle itself was host to some ancient magic, but this room seemed full to the brim with it. He felt Ranseth shivering.

_**Are you alright? **_he asked Rasenth worried. The worry increased when Rasenth didn't reply immediately.

_**I feel so...alive. Power. Energetic. The magic is nourishing me **_said Rasenth in awe. Harry smiled slightly, having forgotten that this was Rasenth's first exposure to such a large gathering of magic.

_**Eliezer explained this remember? Essence seems to respond to magic in large quantities.**_

_**I know! **_snapped Rasenth _**But hearing about it and experiencing it are two different things entirely.**_

The Hat seemed to be singing some sort of song in the background. Harry frowned at the lyrics, which the Hat seemed to be making up on the spot. He pushed the voice to the background and focused on the magic, immersing himself in it completely. He wished he could draw his own magic to resonate with the ambient magic. But his magical aura would cause great fright among the students and teachers, so he decided not to act on that impulse.

The song got over soon, to Harry's relief. He could tell that his two friends seemed to share a similar sentiment.

"If the test was to test our mental strength, it was very well designed indeed," he murmured to Tracey and Daphne, "Anyone who can make it through that song must have a really strong mind."

Daphne smirked minutely and replied, "I think most of them are just too frightened to move. Look at them."

Tracey giggled, realizing that Daphne was right. The students just seemed to tremble in the unfamiliar environment, even those brought up in magical society.

Harry shrugged, "It must be the issue of Houses. Many of them already have Houses they don't like, or Houses they're expected to get sorted into by family."

"Abbot, Hannah!"

"Speaking of which, do you have a house you'd like to get into Harry?" asked Tracey curiously.

Just then, Harry's name got called, (Aristide, Harry) and he grinned at Tracey. "Guess you'll find out now!" he said cheekily before walking over the stool and allowing the Hat to be placed on him.

"_Well then, let's see what this kid's got," _ muttered a voice in his head.

_**Don't talk about us like we aren't here, you flea-bitten accessory**_snapped Rasenth, making the Hat's presence radiate confusion, surprise, and then comprehension.

"_Oh this is going to be good,"_ chuckled the Hat gleefully as it went through Harry's mind, as if his barriers weren't even there.

_**I trust you won't be comprising me **_asked Harry sharply, refusing to have his plans brought down so quickly.

The hat chuckled. _"Don't worry, young Potter. No one is privy to the information I go through. Besides, why would I want to spoil my fun? Dumbledore's office gets boring, and I can tell things will liven up soon._

_**That they will**_ agreed Harry playfully, as Rasenth snorted with amusement.

"_Now then, better get on with the sorting. You're intelligent, analytical, and ambitious. Your bravery is tempered by thought, and you only give loyalty to those who deserve it. Your...origins might make Slytherin a difficult house should it ever get out. In any case, the importance you place on intelligence leaves only..._RAVENCLAW!" yelled the Hat out loud, upon which it was removed by the stern old professor.

Harry stood, and smiled to himself when he realized that the applause was the same it had been for other students.

_**Can you imagine the uproar if I'd attended as Harry Potter? **_he asked Rasenth idly as he walked over to the Ravenclaw table.

_**From what you've been telling me, Gryffindor would probably be sobbing at not get you **_teased Rasenth, while Harry groaned internally. _**Remind me to get Eliezer something nice for Christmas**_.

Harry sat next to one of the older students, leaving enough room to his left in the hope that at least one of his friends would get sorted to Ravenclaw. They certainly had the intellect for it. He did not have to wait long, as Tracey's name called after only a few more names.

"RAVENCLAW!" came the hat's voice, and Harry smiled widely as Tracey came over to the Ravenclaw table, and took the seat next to him.

"I'm glad you got sorted into the same house as me," he told her sincerely, making her smile.

"I'm happy to be sorted with a friend too, Harry. Well, it shouldn't be long before it's Daphne's turn," she remarked, and turned to watch the Hat sort more people.

"Greengrass, Daphne!" came the call, and Harry opened his eyes to look at the Hat, having spent the time until now shoring up his barriers. It had shaken him that he could not even feel the Hat's scan.

"RAVENCLAW!" was the proclamation yet again, and Tracey squealed in delight as Daphne sat down next to her.

"Welcome to the Ravenclaw table, Daphne," smirked Harry before he was punched on the shoulder by Tracey.

"You've been here like five minutes longer!" she exclaimed.

"That's right. I'm her senior by five whooooole minutes," drawled Harry, amused by the irritated twitch next to Daphne's eyes. He quickly stopped though, remembering Daphne's patented glares.

The trio spent the rest of the time placing small bets on which students would go where. Some of the older students even joined in, and Harry found himself suddenly playing the part of bookkeeper for a quarter of the Ravenclaw table.

Rasenth's loud, mocking laughter in his head did not make things much better.

* * *

The Sorting finally got over, just as Harry's temper was about to hit the roof. Tracey was giggling with abandon, and even Daphne has an amused smile on her face.

"What?" grumbled Harry, his scowl getting even more prominent when Tracey refused to stop giggling.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he muttered, just as Dumbledore stood to make his speech.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" he beamed, before sitting down. Harry's eyes went wide at the man's eccentricity. _**He is either genuinely senile, or a highly talented manipulator **_he remarked to Rasenth.

_**Either way, he'll be a nuisance to what you're planning with Eliezer and Ragnok **_replied Rasenth lazily.

Food suddenly appeared on the table, making Harry sigh with relief. He was extremely hungry by now, having declined any snacks from the trolley on the train. It was something that he was deeply regretting now.

He made sure, however, not to stuff himself. When, in an unfortunate moment of curiosity, his eyes wandered over the Gryffindor table, he almost lost his appetite at the sight of the ginger redhead - whose name, Tracey told him, was Ron - stuffing food in mouth, gravy dripping off his fingers and splattering anyone who was unfortunate enough to be sitting next to him.

_**That could have been you**_ said Rasenth evilly.

_**Why would you say such a horrible thing?**_ asked Harry in horror, picturing a scenario where he would be sitting next to Ron at the Gryffindor table. He shuddered with horror and tore his eyes away, focusing on his own food instead.

"So, Aristide, that's one of the reclaimed Noble families right?" asked an older student curiously. He then looked embarrassed, realizing that he hadn't introduced himself yet, "Roger Davies, by the way. Third year student."

Harry smiled and nodded at Roger, "Yeah, that's right. My family has always tended to establish themselves where things are the most...interesting. But their foundation has always been in Britain," he said, smiling brightly and innocently. Despite that, he could see one or two students looking uneasy at the way he had worded his words. He was surprised by their astuteness.

_**It's the house of wit, genius. What did you expect? **_scoffed Rasenth, and Harry chuckled internally in embarrassment.

_**I guess you're right **_he admitted, before talking to some of the other students around the table. The rest of dinner passed enjoyable, and Harry felt the day hadn't been so bad after all. He was sure now that he had at least two new friends, and that was more than he'd had for the past ten years.

* * *

"**What's nowhere, but everywhere, except where something is**?" asked the bronze eagle knocker. Around Harry, most of the first years seemed to be winded from the rather long climb to the Ravenclaw Tower. Harry found himself thanking Andromalius for the almost inhumane physical combat lessons.

"Nothing," replied Harry, realizing that the Prefect, Alice Mary, was waiting for someone to try and guess the answer.

"Good job, Aristide," smiled the Prefect as the Ravenclaw Common Room came into view.

"This is brilliant!" exclaimed Harry as he looked around the circular common room. The decor was done entirely in blue and bronze, and there were plenty of windows.

"The view will be amazing during the day," agreed Tracey, as she walked around the common room.

"They even have their own little library," called out Daphne, standing next to the shelves that were in one corner of the room.

"Gather around everyone!" called the male Prefect, John Acland, "Professor Flitwick, our head of house will now address you!"

"Thank you, Prefect Acland," replied Professor Flitwick in a squeaky voice, though coming from him, the voice did not seem to evoke laughter in anyone.

"Ravenclaw House functions differently from other Houses. We do not have passwords to restrict entry. We accept those who pursue knowledge and prove themselves worthy. Anyone may enter our Common Room if they find it, and answer the riddle. Is this understood?" he asked, looking around the crowd of first years. Nodding in satisfaction, he then walked towards the bookshelves, motioning for the students to follow him.

"This library is one of our greatest treasures. We have access to books that the rest of Hogwarts doesn't, courtesy of Ravenclaw alumni who went on to revolutionize the world. This includes sets of notes as well, notes that have not even been published. You have heard of Nicholas Flamel, yes?" he asked, and the students brought up in the magical world all nodded in assent.

"Do not be overly worried if you have not been exposed to the magical world. Your seniors will be happy to help you, if you're serious about learning," Flitwick reassured the muggleborn students, who looked out of their depth.

"Now then, their notes are but a few of what you will find here. Be warned, however, that every book will test you. Those who donated their work have their own expectations, and the books will not reveal their secrets unless you prove yourself worthy. Many books have yet to be accessed by students, and Nicholas' notes are only one among them. Devote yourself to this library, and the knowledge you gain will be immeasurable," he finished.

Harry was astounded by the library and what it held.

_**I thought it would just be books that were already in the library, or at most, the theses of talented Ravenclaw students**_ he told Rasenth in awe.

He could see the awe reflected on the faces of most of the first years. Harry looked at Daphne and Tracey, and gestured towards the shelf slightly with his head. They nodded back, and grinned at him. The message was clear. At least a few of those stubborn books would give up their secrets by the time the three of them left Hogwarts.

"Finally, we come to the matter of your dormitories. We give every student a room of their over, and allow them to set a password if they so wish," continued Professor Flitwick, satisfied that the students had understood the importance of the Ravenclaw library, "This means that we do not split students up by gender. Every level of Ravenclaw tower will house a particular year, with first years at the lowest level, and the seventh years at the highest."

"The idea is to give us a good view just when we're swamped by an excess of work," grinned Acland, earning an amused look from Flitwick.

"To begin with, your rooms will have the standard amount of space, as well as the standard furniture. However, work worthy of a Ravenclaw will be rewarded, and you will receive space extensions, the right to customize your room, and so forth. We aim to be meritocratic in the best way. However, that does **not** mean that bullying or degrading will be tolerate. Do I make myself clear?" Flitwick asked, and this time, everyone could see him flare his magical aura, which was blue in color. The message was clear. Ravenclaw did not take lightly to bullying of any kind.

"That will be all for now. Oh, before I forget, the other way to get those perks is merely to learn all the charms and cast them for yourself. You will have to cast those spells in my presence of course, I can't have half of Ravenclaw Tower vanishing," said Professor Flitwick, now smiling slightly, 'You will be escorted to your classes by your Prefects on the first day. Finish breakfast quickly, so they can escort you without being late for their own classes. Timetables will be handed out tomorrow as well. Good night, and welcome to the house of learning."

"Alright," said Alice Mary, stepping forward, "Here's how you claim your rooms. As Professor Flitwick already said, the first years take the lowest floor, that's the floor right above this one. Ravenclaw Tower has had the largest modification in terms of space extension charms. You'll find enough rooms for all of you. Select a room, call for a house elf. They will help you setup a password. Then, the room is yours for the year. Any questions?" she asked.

"Yes, who else can open our rooms?" asked Daphne, looking curious.

"Whoever you give the password too, obviously, so guard it well. Professor Flitwick is the only other who can open the door, and he is required to do so only in the case of emergencies," replied Alice, as if she had been expecting that question.

_**It must be a frequently asked one, I suppose **_commented Ranseth, still looking around the common room curiously _**I sense strong magic here as well. It's not as riveting as in the Great Hall though**_.

_**I sensed it as well. It's still impressive, the Great Hall has held centuries of the entire student population, this is just the Ravenclaw signatures**_ Harry replied, just as Professor Flitwick dismissed the first years. He walked up the stairs to the next floor, along with Daphne and Tracey.

"This is brilliant! My g- father was telling me that the other houses all have dormitories. I'm gonna do enough to turn my room into a suite in four years or so," grinned Harry, bouncing on his toes in excitement.

_**Careful, Harry. Almost let something slip there **_chided Rasneth.

_**Sorry, I'm just very excited **_mumbled Harry.

_**I can tell**_ said Rasenth, radiating amusement.

"You'll take all of four years?" asked Daphne, one eyebrow raised, "Don't get left behind Harry, I'm thinking two."

Harry shook his head slightly and stood in front of the room he wanted. "Service please," he said tentatively. It seemed to work, however, as a house elf popped up in front of him immediately, startling nearby students.

"I is Missy sir," squeaked the elf, "This be sir's chosen room?"

"Hello Missy, yes, this is the room I've chosen. Can you help me set my password?" asked Harry.

The house elf placed her hand on the door, making the nameplate on the door glow bright green, "Sir be saying password now."

Harry leaned close to the door and whispered, "_Pandaemonium."_

The nameplate stopped glowing, and Harry's name appeared on it. "The room be sir's now," said the house elf before disappearing.

Harry pushed the door open, and took in his home for the next year. The room was just that - standard. There wasn't too much space, but it wasn't too cramped either. He had a desk, a chair, a bed, and a cupboard.

_**Not bad**_ remarked Rasenth, getting off Harry's shoulders and jumping to the floor, before increasing his size slightly.

_**Still having trouble with small forms?**_ asked Harry as he took out his trunk from his pocket and enlarged it, before keeping it near the cupboard.

_**Not trouble. It's just uncomfortable to compress my essence for so long **_sniffed Ranseth, surveying the room. _**You'll have to liven this place up. Space extension charms will be beyond you for a while, but you can do something about the color at least.**_

_**Later, Rasenth **_yawned Harry, summoning his pajamas out of his trunk. He was too tired to care much about the color of the walls.

He got into bed and snapped his fingers, extinguishing the candles lighting up the room. With the moonlight softly falling into the room, and Rasenth settling down to meditate in a part of the room, Harry finally put an end to his day.

* * *

**Concluding Notes:** I make no apologies for my portrayal of Snape :P I hope you drop me a review to let me know how I'm doing.

Until next time,

SK.


	9. Chapter 9: Levitation and Wraiths

**A/N: So, here's yet another chapter. Is Voldemort really the main antagonist? :o**

**Read, review, review and review :P**

* * *

_Hate. There was so much hate._

_He was in a maelstrom, crimson and pulsating, as it whipped around in a frenzy. He could sense madness and bloodthirst radiating from it in incredible waves, making him fall to his knees in sheer terror. A ferocious intelligence seemed to be present in the maelstrom, though it seemed to pay no attention to him. _

_He got up and ran, unable to stand the waves of killing intent that was emanating from the entity. As he got farther and farther away, the only emotion he felt was an overpowering fear._

_The hate had been directed at humans._

Harry tore out of his bed, eyes darting around the room wildly as his magic flared, throwing the furniture in the room against the wall and crushing them.

_**What the hell! **_yelped Rasenth as he narrowly avoided the bed before it crashed against the wall. He rapidly reached for Harry's memories and found the nightmare, realizing what had happened to Harry.

_**Harry**_ Rasenth intoned powerfully, pushing his voice across their bond as much as possible. _**HARRY!**_

_**Rasenth...what...I…**_ muttered Harry as he gradually settled down, his breathing slowing to a normal pace.

_**It was just a nightmare Harry. Calm down**_ said Rasenth soothingly and waited till Harry had regained his composure.

"It looks like I'll be redecorating a little sooner than I planned," muttered Harry a few minutes later, surveying the damage he had done to the room. This was the first time he had ever lashed out so violently with his magic.

_**Just be grateful it wasn't all of your magic. A missing wall would be much harder to take care of **_snorted Rasenth as he too looked around the room. _**You don't have to be at breakfast for a while yet. Might as well use the time well. **_

Harry just nodded and surveyed the room for a minute, before deciding to do things step by step. First he called on his magic and concentrated on the wreckage in the room, willing it to vanish. Fortunately, his trunk had survived its impact against the wall, with unbreakable charms being one of its features. The room now looked barren.

_**Wait **_said Rasenth before he could continue. Harry raised an eyebrow at his partner questioningly.

_**Try using the wand Ollivander gave you. You've never really tried using properly yet **_advised the daemon.

"Good idea," muttered Harry and rummaged around his trunk until he found his wand. He felt the same warmth once again, and he smiled slightly. If any wand could serve his unique magical connections, it would be this one.

This time, Harry fed his magic to the wand, and felt the power magnify and sharpen multiple times within the wand. He flicked the wand slightly, concentrating on the most comfortable bed he could think of - The one he'd had in his home. The results were staggering. An exact copy of his bed was now in the room, everything from the scratches he'd inflicted on it, to the way the mattress had been moulded to the shape of his body.

_**Well...I'd say that was a success **_said a slightly dumbstruck Rasenth while Harry grinned. Just like in the wand shop, the wand had not tried to forcefully draw magic to itself. It merely helped him. He had required much less concentration, and much less magical power to accomplish what he wanted.

_**I might be able to focus on more than one thing more easily with this wand**_mused Harry, though he was not ready for magic of that level yet.

Ten minutes later, Harry's room looked much better than it had the previous night. He had customized most of his furniture to have links to Ravenclaw house - Everything from the silver-and-blue motif on the walls, to the wooden furniture, that had elements of Ravenclaw house carved into it.

_**This will do fine until I can expand the room**_ Harry told Rasenth before summoning his uniform out of his new cupboard and proceeding down to the common room.

* * *

"Harry!" greeted Tracey brightly, making Harry grin.

"Good morning," smiled Daphne. Very slightly.

"Good morning to you too!" smiled Harry, his nightmare now seeming like it had happen long ago. For the first time in his life, he carried a wand in his pocket. _Might as well order in a holster if I'm going to be using a wand _Harry thought to himself as the trio headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Breakfast was uneventful, with the three of them sitting on the side of the table that _didn't _face the Gryffindors. As Tracey said in her signature fashion, "I refuse to grow allergic to food because that ginger idiot smears it all over himself."

"First years! All first years assemble here please. I'll guide you to your classroom now," called Prefect Acland, standing at one end of the table. Most of the first years got up immediately, having remembered this being discussed the previous night.

"Now, make sure you remember the way. Hogwarts can be confusing until you get used to it," continued Acland as he led them through a myriad of paths until they finally stood in front of the Charms classroom.

"Prefect Mary will be here to show you to your next class. Professor Flitwick has allowed you to leave five minutes early," were his parting words as he hastened towards his own class. The first years trooped into the class and settled down. A few minutes later, Hufflepuffs started trailing in.

"We're sharing this class with them," Daphne said, catching the look of mild confusion on Harry's face.

"You didn't pay any attention to the timetable, did you?" asked Tracey amusedly.

"Maybe," said Harry, his face carefully blank, twiddling his thumbs slightly.

The two girls shook their head in consternation as Rasenth snorted from Harry's shoulders. Harry sudden sat up in surprise as he saw Neville Longbottom enter the class in Hufflepuff robes.

"Neville's in Hufflepuff?" he asked in surprise.

"So...you didn't pay attention till the Sorting either?" asked Daphne, now looking as amused as Tracey.

"I stopped paying attention once you two got sorted into Ravenclaw," admitted Harry with a small blush, just as Flitwick entered the classroom. Unknown to Harry, his two friends had smiled at his admission.

Harry looked over Neville, who seemed to be very happy as he talked with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot. He made a mental note to talk to the Longbottom heir as soon as the class ended.

Class started with Flitwick teaching them how to cast the levitation charm. The excitable professor almost bounced around the room as he enunciated the spell carefully and showed the students the wand movements. Harry recognized the movements for what they were - they were based loosely on the shape of the runes of the spell, and were intended to help focus the wand's energy. He himself spent most of the class reading ahead in the theory book, until Professor Flitwick stopped by his seat.

"Mister Aristide, I see you have not attempted the spell yet. Could you give it a try now, please?" he asked curiously, wondering why Harry hadn't even bothered to attempt the spell.

"Yes, sir. I was merely immersed in the theory," said Harry, almost performing the spell wandlessly as was his norm. He caught himself at the last second and withdrew his wand, forcing himself to go through the motions and the incantation, "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

He guided the feather up in a controlled manner, before proceeding to dip and raise it several times, to Professor Flitwick's astonishment.

"Well done, Mister Aristide! The trick is not to raise it as high as you can, but to exert complete control over it every step of the way," exclaimed Professor Flitwick, addressing the second sentence to the entire class.

"Twenty points to Ravenclaw, Mister Aristide, and you are exempt from today's essay on the Levitation spell. I believe you have understood it well enough," said Professor Flitwick, and Harry thought he caught a glint of pride in his eyes.

Harry spent the next few minutes watching other students perform the spell. Tracey and Daphne were doing well, but they still hadn't completely gotten a hold of the spell. Daphne had the makings of excellent control over the spell, but had trouble keeping the flow of magic steady. Tracey, on the other hand, was channeling too much energy into her spells, indicating a significant potential for magical energy, but leaving her with little control.

His eye was caught, however, by Neville, who seemed to have great difficulty achieving even minor success.

_**Rasenth, can you look on the third plane and tell me what's wrong with Neville's magic? **_asked Harry, realizing that nothing was wrong with Neville's incantation or wand movements.

_**Of course. It looks like the problem isn't with his own magic, but with his wand. It seems to be hindering his magic, rather than drawing it out **_commented Rasenth after a moment, his voice sounding puzzled at the oddity.

Harry leaned forward, and called softly, "Mister Longbottom?"

Neville turned around, looking rather startled that someone was talking to him. Harry could see Bones and Abbot paying attention subtly.

"If I may ask, is that your own wand you're using?"

Neville looked startled at the odd question, before replying, "No, i-it belongs to my father. And please, call me Neville"

_**Ah, that explains it**_. "Neville, if I might make an observation, I have a feeling that the wand isn't responding to you properly because it isn't yours," said Harry, smiling gently to show the other boy that he meant no offense by his remarks.

"I...I keep it as a token of my parents," said the boy quietly, and Harry felt a powerful wave of empathy rise up in him. He knew what it was like to lose parents, though in Neville's case, it was far worse, since the Longbottoms were on the precipice of death, denying any sort of finality.

"I understand," said Harry gently, "But I think you'd also want to excel and make them proud. You can't do that if you deny yourself a wand that would respond to you."

"Mister Aristide is correct," came Professor Flitwick's voice suddenly, and Harry nearly jumped. he hadn't notice the professor observing their conversation.

"But my gran-," began Neville hesitantly, when Professor Flitwick cut him off, "I will speak to Augusta myself, Mister Longbottom. With luck, Minerva will take you to buy your own wand within two days."

"Thank you," said Neville earnestly, and Harry could see a hint of relief in his eyes.

"And thank you too, Mister Aristide," said Neville formally.

Harry grinned widely and held out his hands, "I would like you be your friend, Neville. Call me Harry."

* * *

The afternoon was less enjoyable, as Harry found himself in the company of a very greasy bat in the name of Potions class. Eliezer had already told Harry what he had learned by eavesdropping on Snape and Dumbledore, and Harry was rather glad that Snape didn't know who he really was. The sallow puddle of grease already had a look of loathing on his face in general. Harry did not want to find out what a deep-seated grudge would bring out.

The class had begun with a pop quiz, but thankfully, Harry had not been called out. Harry thought he saw a flash of fear flicker across the Potions Master's face, and his eyes moved to Draco. They were sharing a class with the Slytherins, in the afternoon. Harry frowned, finding the connection bemusing.

_**You idiot, you haven't assimilated all the memories Eliezer gave you, did you? **_asked Rasenth, a trace of irritation in his voice.

_**In my defence, there was a LOT of memories **_Harry replied sheepishly and tended to his potion until the instructions told him to allow it to simmer. Harry used the break to try and sift through Eliezer's unsorted memories in a hurry.

_**Here **_said Rasenth resignedly, pulling out one of Lucius Malfoy's memories. Harry sent him a wave of thankfulness and proceeded to study the memory.

_Well well, old Snape is the ferret's godfather I see. That certainly seems to explain it. The ferret must have told him about what happened on the train _mused Harry, feeling rather amused by the way events had played out. Snape now feared him - or rather, the family that he was a part of.

_**It seems the ferret was good for something after all**_ scoffed Rasenth, before Harry detected a wicked aura emanating from Rasenth's thoughts.

_**What are you up to Rasenth? **_Harry asked cautiously. It was never a good sign when Rasenth felt wicked. The results tended to be unpleasant for those who provoked it.

_**I just remembered that I owe the ferret a favor for waking me up on the train **_said Rasenth innocently, and Harry could feel him preparing to mess with Malfoy's potion somehow.

_**Not a good idea, Ransenth**_ Harry said quickly _**Messing with Potions might just as easily blow up the whole room. Some other time.**_

_**Fine **_scoffed Rasenth, and Harry felt him take off from his shoulders.

_**I think I'll explore the castle for a while**_ remarked Rasenth, leaving Harry to pray that he didn't get any bright ideas.

At the end of the hour, Harry headed to the front of the classroom with Daphne, his potions partner, and handed in several vials of the completed potions. They were dismissed with a drawled, "Acceptable," and both took great pleasure in leaving the room as quickly as possible.

* * *

"M-Master, please! I beg of you…"

It was an unused classroom that Rasenth eventually passed by, and he was surprised to hear voices coming from within. Curious, he walked into the room quietly, ensuring that he was invisible on all but the seventh plane.

Inside the room was the was the stuttering teacher, the man who insisted on clothing himself with Eastern garb. Fear clung to the room like a dark miasma, making Rasenth's essence prickle with disgust. Fear was to be inspired in others, it was not something to fester in.

"_You disgusting little worm. You seek power and knowledge, but you are too weak to do what is necessary. Were I not so desperate…"_

The voice was unearthly, neither human nor daemon. Rasenth looked on the third plane, and saw nothing but Quirrel's insignificant magical power. He looked on the fifth, and had to restrain himself from exclaiming out loud.

It was the same energy that Eliezer had described as the cause of the portals in Pandaemonium. It was the same energy that had rampantly existed in Harry's scar, before it had been tightly sealed. It was the reason Pandaemonium had touched upon the human world once more. It was the energy caused by a soul torn beyond comprehension. A damaged soul corrupted by the tearings, and dangerous in its corruption.

"_Lord Voldemort does not tolerate ineptitude, slave. You will make progress, and soon. My patience stretches thin."_

"Y-Yes, my Master."

In a minute, Rasenth was alone in the room.

_**Harry, you wouldn't believe what just happened**_ he told his brother over their mental link. The day was no longer boring, and Rasenth found himself pondering the human concept of the jinx.

* * *

"Harry, Tracey had a suggestion," said Daphne softly. The two of them were sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room, Harry already poring over one of the easier books in the Ravenclaw library. The puzzle set before him was mathematical. Fitting, as the writer of the manuscript wished to lead the reader through Arithmancy in a faster, yet more thorough manner than the Hogwarts syllabus. This would require the reader to comprehend math at a greatly accelerated pace.

He looked up from attempting to solve the Stomachion, and focused on Daphne.

"Do tell," he prompted, curious at to what had happened. He no longer felt the childish abandon that he had when he entered Hogwarts. He had hoped for one year free of his burden. It was not to be, and Harry knew his friends had noticed his withdrawal. He did not know how to explain it to them.

"Do you remember Professor Flitwick's remarks about extra work? She was hoping that we could work on some projects together. From what we've both seen so far, our talents are quite diverse. I think it'd be a great success," she said, and despite her public face being present, Harry thought he saw a bit of hope in her aquamarine green eyes.

_**You should know how she's feeling after all. Your circumstances might be different, but I get the feeling that neither of you have had any real friends. Tracey is the exception of course**_ commented Rasenth, though he was still exploring Hogwarts.

"I would love to," said Harry, and a shade of his earlier happiness shone in his eyes. Daphne smiled slightly at it, before getting up from the chair and gesturing to him. "Come on, we'll miss dinner if we don't leave soon."

Now Harry grinned widely and stood up, feeling his fatalistic outlook from minutes ago fading slightly. He doubted it would ever entirely leave him, but he was content to take the minor victory.

"Daphne...I know there are many think I haven't told you guys," began Harry when Daphne cut him off immediately.

"We haven't told you a lot of things either. And it's not something we can rush. Don't force yourself," she said firmly, and Harry nodded quickly before she brought out her already patented glare.

"Yes ma'am," he said, his voice slightly teasing, and narrowly dodged a swat to his head as they descended the Ravenclaw tower.

"Where is Tracey, by the way?" he asked Daphne curiously, having been pre-occupied when she had left.

"Library. She likes to read alone sometimes. She said she'd join us for dinner."

"She's getting into the thick of academics pretty quickly isn't she?"

"She's driven, but I've never let her burn out. I still won't."

"If you hold an intervention, I'll do the lettering on the banner."

"You just want to avoid the talking part don't you?"

"Drat. It was such a good plan too."

"To a kindergartner perhaps."

Silence followed their longest conversation yet, and Harry suddenly began to giggle in a most undignified manner, and Daphne wasn't faring much better, her face turning red from the effort of holding her laughter in.

"I'm glad I met you guys on the train Daphne," Harry said after regaining his breath.

"I'm glad you chose our compartment," said Daphne, and this was the most sincere Harry had heard her sound so far. They walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in companionable silence.

* * *

Tracey was already at the table when Harry and Daphne entered, and she gestured to them brightly.

"He said yes," was the first thing Daphne said as they sat down.

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled as Tracey broke into a small victory celebration.

"We'll start discussing projects this weekend," he said as he began to fill his plate, "FIrst year might be the time to get our foundations up to scratch, since classwork seems to be rather easy."

"Sounds good to me," she replied and went back to her food. Peace reigned for a few minutes, and Harry felt that the day had gone quite well, revelation of Voldemort notwithstanding. Now that he knew, he would have to let Eliezer and the rest know, and hopefully devise a plan to eliminate the threat.

Suddenly, the Great Hall was filled with the sounds of a minor commotion, and Harry turned towards the Gryffindor table, where the noise seemed to be coming from.

"You take that back Malfoy!" yelled the Weasley, Ron, his face an even brighter red than his hair.

"What's the matter Weasley?" came the reply, delivered with the typical Malfoy sneer, "I was only stating a fact. When was the last time you visited a robe shop? That uniform looks like what they wore when your father went to Hogwarts!"

At this, Ron lost his temper, and with a war cry, tackled Malfoy. Malfoy's two goons joined the fray, and the Hall was filled with sounds of pain and rage for the next few minutes. Harry howled with laughter, as did most of the other students, though Slytherin looked apalled at the way one of theirs was behaving.

_**Oh Rasenth, you're missing something amazing**_ choked Harry, his eyes now overflowing with tears.

_**Who do you think started it? **_came Rasenth's amused voice, and Harry felt Rasenth's weight on his shoulders again. Harry was shocked for a moment.

_**How did you manage that? **_

_**Mimicked Malfoy's voice near Weasley just as he was passing by. Things devolved marvelously from there **_came the smug reply, and Harry had to force himself not to burst into laughter yet again.

_**I think you listened to too many Marauder stories from Sirius. **_

_**You object to this? **_

_**God no**_ said Harry, sounding scandalized _**Just make sure to invite me next time.**_

By then, Snape was swooping on the wrestling boys, with Minerva close behind. Harry waited for yet another Gryffindor-Slytherin turf war to begin. He was not disappointed.

* * *

_Dear all,_

_Hogwarts has been quite...exciting so far. I made two new friends on the train, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. Eliezer, you should look into getting to know their families better. From what these two have told me, their families could make valuable allies, and their beliefs seem to be rather similar to ours. Well, they don't trust Dumbledore or Voldemort at least. I think we would the perfect third option for them._

_That little problem that grandfather to move here...I think I put a name to it today. It's hidden itself quite well, but it's here. I might need information from the outside, but I think I can handle it for the most part. It wouldn't do for grandfather to leave his responsibilities, nor his staff theirs. If he could do some research into what is special about Hogwarts this year, that would help greatly. Something special has to be here, in order to warrant his attention. It could be me, but I doubt it, since he seems to have an agenda despite my absence._

_Telll Andromalius not to cry, I'll be home for Christmas._

_Harry._

Harry sighed and stretched, his body still sore from the time he fell off the bench in laughter. He had spent the last hour writing out an essay Snape had asked for, in an exhaustive amount of detail. If Snape was going to give him drone-like homework, then by god he would make sure that Snape got a drone-like essay.

Near him, Tracey and Daphne were starting to exhibit signs of sleepiness. Harry stood and wished them goodnight before heading to his room with the letter. Rasenth would take the letter to Lyra, who would be in the Owlery. The Hogwarts wards were not built to prevent daemons from doing their own version of apparations after all.

That night, Harry had yet another nightmare. This time, it was not the dream he had last. This time, he dreamed of a man with a snake-like face, and burst of green light, accompanied by the sound of a woman begging for her son's life.

* * *

**Concluding Notes: Until next time. This was pretty a chapter where Harry settles in, so nothing too exciting. It won't stay that way for long.**

**Drop me a line!**


	10. Chapter 10: Quills and Trolls

**A/N:**

**A reviewer asked me what Ron has done to deserve Harry's ire so early. Eliezer is a valuable character in the story, in how Harry has been informed of Dumbledore's nature. That, plus what Harry heard Ron mutter means that he has a fair idea of what Ron is up to. Harry deeply dislikes manipulators, and Ron is one, even if the puppet master is someone else. This Harry is rather vindictive to those he dislikes. But let's face it. He laughed at a scuffle between two eleven year olds, not a crucio being cast at Ron. And frankly, I've never liked Ron.**

**Review after reading it!**

* * *

The days to Halloween passed swiftly, with no outward moves made by Quirrell. Harry spent his time between classes and his circle of friends - a circle which now included Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom. Hannah Abbot, while on friendly terms, seemed to have different interests from the group, and was now usually found with Terry Boot and Marietta Edgecombe.

Harry had delved into socializing with far more enthusiasm after Eliezer had replied to the letter he had sent.

_Dear Harry,_

_This means things are developing faster than any of us expected . The rest of us are involved with either security or the management of family affairs. It would not look plausible for a Lord to walk into Hogwarts with knowledge that should not be available to him. Nor would it help the creation of a third side. I'm afraid you must deal with any pests you find, at least overtly. _

_Do not let this isolate you. Even if you decide not to share your efforts with trustworthy friends, at least allow yourself to be free in their midst. _

_You have been sorely missed. Enjoy and learn all you can from Hogwarts._

_ Grandfather._

Harry smiled softly as he recalled. He was sitting at the house table and idly taking bites out of his toast. It was still early and the Hall was mostly empty, with only a few students scattered through the four tables. The letter had been written in typical Lord Aristide fashion - in case it was intercepted. It was also vague enough to hold nothing incriminating. At that moment, Harry felt deeply homesick. He wanted to be in his manor again, interacting with his loved ones, and not the personas they hid behind.

_**Christmas will be here soon**_ comforted Rasenth sleepily. Normally, Harry would laugh at how slothful his daemon was. But this was Halloween. A day that managed to bring down his spirits every year, while being a cause for celebration for the rest of Magical Britain. Well, perhaps not the Death Eaters.

"Harry!" came Susan's voice, sounding rather disbelieving, "How early did you wake up? You look like you're mostly done with breakfast!"

Harry's eyes darkened, something that Susan and Neville, who was next to her, noticed.

"What is it Harry?" asked Susan, more softly this time. Neville smiled at him supportively. Harry's heart clenched at this, knowing that he could not tell them the truth. That he considered Halloween to be tragedy because it was the day his parents had been taken from him. Even though he had a loving family, their loss still weighed heavily on him.

_**How can I do this Rasenth? How can I lie to them while calling them my friends? **_

_**I don't know, Harry. Pandaemonium taught me many things, but you are more experienced than me here.**_

_**Their kindness is killing me. How can I be their friend if I betray them like this?**_

_**You could always tell them the truth **_

_**No! Telling them would be forcing them into this struggle. They cannot know the truth and remain out of the line of fire.**_

Harry realized that he had been ignoring Susan and Neville, and quickly smiled apologetically at them. He knew that he was fooling no one with a smile that forced, but ploughed on quickly, "Halloween just isn't a good day for me guys. I'll be fine," he said, injecting as much gratefulness as he could into his tone.

The duo looked suspicious for a few moments, but ultimately, they sighed and sat down opposite him. It was common practice now for the group to sit at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables in turns. Harry released his breath when he saw them accept his words, feeble as they might have been.

Soon, Tracey and Daphne joined the table, and the discussion began to revolve around the book of Arithmancy that Harry had successfully tested himself against, with the help of Tracey and Daphne. The knowledge they had obtained allowed them to understand the first year spells quite easily - not just the incantation and function, but also how the spell itself was constructed. Susan and Neville were more interested in Herbology and Potions, though they did help throw ideas around.

The rest of breakfast passed this way, with Harry managing to hide how he felt to some extent. It fooled all but his closest friends, but they gave him his privacy.

* * *

Professor McGonagall was a hard taskmaster, and today was no different. After many challenging classes of theory and minor exercises, the students were asked to try and transfigure a lean wooden stick into a quill.

"I do not expect many of you to completely grasp this spell today. I certainly expect you to try your hardest to achieve it. The incantation, as you know, is _lignum reformabit. _The important thing is to visualize the quill. You may begin," were her concise instructions, after which she began to walk around the class, helping and sometimes criticizing the students.

They shared this class with the Gryffindors, which unfortunately meant that everyone had to listen to Ronald Weasley's muttered curses as he failed his task.

Harry silently flicked his wand, picturing in his mind his familiar Lyra. The magpie had beautiful black feathers that were streaked with white. The stick in front of him warped and changed its shape, unravelling strands from the wood to form the feathers, while the central portion turned ivory white and tapered towards the end.

A few seconds later, Professor McGonagall stopped by his desk and stared, astonished at the quill sitting in front of him.

"Mister Aristide," she said crisply, "May I see you perform the spell again?"

"Yes ma'am," said Harry easily and waited until she reversed the transformation, leaving the stick in front of him again. This time, he made sure to perform the proper movements and clearly intoned, "_lignum reformabit,"_ while again picturing the feather. He pictured the dimensions a little larger this time, as the quill had been a little small last time.

A nearly invisible smile adorned the strict professor's face as she watched the finished product materialize before her once more.

"Twenty points to Ravenclaw for an excellent performance, Mr. Aristide," she said before continuing her rounds around the class.

Tracey and Daphne were only a little behind, and soon had Professor McGonagall awarding them fifteen points each.

"Fifty points. Not bad for ten minutes' work," said Daphne in an amused tone, before turning back to her quill and trying to modify it.

"Ruddy hell!" came an annoyed exclamation when the class was nearly over, and the trio turned back to see Ronald Weasley nearly hitting the stick with his wand as he yelled out mangled versions of the incantation.

"Trans. Form. You. Stupid. Stick," he gritted through his teeth as the stick did little more than wobble on his desk.

Tracey, taking pity on him (and possibly not wanting him to blow the classroom up), called out to him.

"Weasley, I don't think you're visualizing the quill. It doesn't matter how loudly you shout the incantation. You need to picture a quill in your mind."

Granger, who was sitting next to Weasley, glowered at the three of them. Her quill still looked like half the strands had been plucked from it, and she despised the trio for making a better impression on Professor McGonagall than her.

"Piss off, Davis. I'm not taking advice from a slimy snake family," sneered the Weasley before turning his back to her.

"What an absolutely horrid creature," sniffed Granger to Weasley.

"No wonder her father killed himself," said Ron loudly.

Tracey suddenly stiffened up completely, her eyes staring fixedly on the table. A low growl erupted from Daphne's throat, and her hand twitched as she tried to stop herself from cursing the ginger boy to hell. Harry's eyes flashed and Rasenth had to forcibly suppress his magical aura from flaring.

_**Not now, Harry! **_shouted Rasenth.

"Mister Weasley!" exclaimed McGonagall, looking shocked, "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a week's worth of detentions with Mister Filch. I will _not_ have a Gryffindor student behaving in such a manner."

Granger's eyes watered up at the thought of losing so many points, while Ron merely turned an ugly shade of purple.

Class ended just then, and Tracey ran out of class before anyone could stop her.

"Tracey!" shouted Harry, hurrying after her, before he was stopped by Daphne.

"Don't. I'll look after her," she said shortly before hurrying after Tracey.

"Mental, that one. What an absolute nightmare," came Weasley's malicious voice once again. Harry whirled around, his eyes flashing. After a cursory check to see McGonagall walking away already, Harry drew on his magic, forcing it towards Weasley and Granger in torrents.

"Shut up," he hissed, his eyes glowing with power.

"Or what-," began Weasley with a sneer when his eyes widened in fear. His skin seemed to flow over his lips as he thrashed his head around violently. Within a minute, his mouth had disappeared entirely, leaving only smooth skin behind.

His eyes widened in terror, Weasley began to run away, leaving a slight hint of ammonia behind.

_**That could be troublesome later **_said Rasenth, trying to keep his voice light.

_**He deserved that and more. Besides, no one saw me use my wand. They won't believe a first year can use wandless magic **_replied Harry as he slowly walked towards the entrance to the Great Hall. He needed to find Neville and Susan.

_**Can you find them and keep an eye on them Rasenth? **_asked Harry as he moved, not wanting them to be alone, wherever they were.

_**I can find them through their magic cores **_replied Rasenth and Harry felt him move away. Harry sighed. He had yet another reason to hate Halloween.

* * *

"I can't believe Weasley brought that up," said Susan, looking more sad than angry. Neville, sitting next to her, had clenched his fists when he heard what Harry recounted.

"I think I'm missing something. What happened to Tracey's father? And how does the Weasel, of all people, know about it?" asked Harry.

"It was in the newspapers. Before our time, I think. But the Weasel's family is a prominent pureblood family. One of his older brothers might have remembered the story," mused Neville, glaring slightly at the twins and Percy, the fifth year Prefect.

"Her parents were very old when they had Tracey," explained Susan, "And the old Lord Davis was said to have killed himself in return for his family's safety."

"And Weasley used THAT against her?" growled Harry, "Taking his mouth away doesn't seem like enough now."

"Calm down Harry," said Susan, "I heard that even Madam Pomfrey will take a few days to reverse that damage."

"Besides," joked Neville, "Missing the Halloween feast AND a few other meals will be torture as far as he's concerned."Harry smiled slightly at this, but still wished he had done more. His vindictive side would not tolerate his friends being harmed.

The trio were sitting in the Great Hall, which had been sumptuously decorated for the Halloween feast. Hundreds of carved pumpkins and candles hung in the air, as if held by invisible strings. Every ghost in Hogwarts glided around the Hall, even a ghost Susan called "Moaning Myrtle" who seemed to be crying about not being able to eat. The feast was mouthwatering, with exotic looking dishes that had been painstakingly crafted to fit the Halloween theme. The juice was colored to look like blood. Wizarding candy was strewn throughout the tables, and more than a few errant chocolate frogs were hopping around the tables, leading to many laughs.

Even Harry couldn't remain dismal as he tucked into the delicious food, though a part of him was still worried. But he soon ignored it as he laughed and dined at the Ravenclaw table. For the first time, he found himself regarding Halloween in a pleasant light.

That feeling was soon shattered, however, when a hysterical-looking Quirrell ran into the Great Hall, his face drawn in absolute terror. Harry tensed, knowing who Quirrell truly was.

"Troll in the dungeons! TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!" he yelled before muttering something else and collapsing into a dead faint.

_He's faking it_ realized Harry, when he saw the man's tense shoulders. No one could hold themselves so tensely and be unconscious.

Chaos erupted in the Hall, and even Dumbledore had difficulty bringing the commotion under control.

_**Harry! Daphne and Tracey are in the dungeons! **_said Rasenth tensely, and Harry could feel him starting to gather his power.

_**Got it. Hide yourself, but intervene if it becomes necessary**_ replied Harry as he stood and left the Hall along with the other students. He grabbed Neville and Susan by their hands and whispered softly, "The girls are in the dungeons."

They immediately stiffened, before nodding and following him as he slipped away from the crowd quietly. They walked silently until the sounds of the students faded, before breaking into a run towards the dungeons.

_**No good! The troll is already here. I'm going to engage it **_snarled Rasenth.

Harry cursed loudly but continued to run, even though Rasenth had enough power to deal with a troll easily.

_**Don't attack it physically, your claw marks will be hard to explain away**_ shouted Harry as they rounded the corner of the last corridor and came into view of the girl's bathroom. Harry saw a flash of red light as Rasenth attacked the troll with a Detonation, followed by an enraged roar. His eyes widened at the thought that the troll had survived the attack.

He ran into the bathroom, and found Rasenth in his enlarged form crouched protectively in front of the two girls, while the monstrous troll picked itself up from where it had fallen. It looked shaken, but otherwise harmed. His eyes widened when he saw runes etched into the troll's skin, shining green as they worked on the troll.

"Rasenth! The runes must be strengthening the troll!" Harry shouted out loud.

"Tell me something I don't know," snarled Rasenth in reply, "What do we do?"

"Let's overload them," decided Harry, running through ideas desperately, "You attack magically, I'll attack physically."

"How?" asked Rasenth disbelievingly, but began to condense his power, ready to cast another Detonation.

"Like this," whispered Harry as he threw out his hands and used his magic to pick up the club that the troll had dropped when it had fallen. He moved his hands, causing the club to move in complete synchronization. A light blue aura swirled around it as he willed his magic to strengthen the club.

"NOW!" shouted Harry and swung with his hands. A thundering sound was heard as the troll was attacked from both sides simultaneously. It growled and staggered slightly, before falling face forward, dead. The glowing runes began to recede, soon no longer visible on the troll.

Loud footsteps were heard, and Harry turned and hissed at Rasenth, "Invisible. _Now._"

Rasenth responded immediately and made himself invisible once more, just as all four Heads of Houses ran into the bathroom, only to stop dead in their tracks at what they saw. Five students stood panting in the now destroyed bathroom, while a troll was immobilized near the centre of the room.

"Explain yourselves," said Professor Flitwick, when he realized that three of the students were Ravenclaws. His voice shook slightly as he spoke.

"I'd like to know that as well," said Professor Sprout faintly, looking at her two Hufflepuffs.

"Daphne and Tracey were in the bathroom when the warning was made," said Harry, panting slightly as he spoke, "They didn't know about the troll, so we ran here to try and get them to safety."

"And what were Miss Greengrass and Davis doing here in the first place?" asked Snape, his black eyes glittering suspiciously.

"Tracey got upset with what Weasley said, and Daphne followed her to console her. It happened in Professor McGonagall's class, she can vouch for it," replied Harry, looking at McGonagall, who nodded strictly, as if angry that one of her lions had been responsible for all this.

"It appears I will have to escalate Mister Weasley's punishment," she said stiffly.

"Ah, and how did the rest of you know where to find them?" asked Snape, his lips twisting into a malicious smile.

_Dammit! _swore Harry, trying to think rapidly of an excuse. He couldn't very well tell them about Rasenth following the girls.

"It was me, professor," said Susan, cutting in, "I heard one of the girls say that they were in the bathroom, so I insisted on checking here first."

_Thank you Susan _said Harry fervently in his thoughts, but quailed slightly as she shot him a look for a moment that said, "You have a lot of explaining to do."

"But how did five first years defeat a full grown troll?" asked Sprout worriedly.

"I used the Levitation spell Professor, it was one of the first spells we learned," said Harry, injecting a note of nervousness into his voice, "I lifted the club and then dropped it on the troll's head, while Neville and Susan were distracting it. Then it just sort of fell over," he said, indicating the fallen carcass.

"Well done indeed Mister Aristide!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, now smiling proudly at his students, "Fifty points to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff for helping your friends, and for displaying logic in such trying circumstances. Now, back to your common rooms please."

"Yes," added Professor Sprout, "And you can all be excused from the morning sessions tomorrow."

"One thing, Professor," said Harry urgently, "I know about the Right of Conquest. I'd like to place my claim over the troll's body."

"Absolutely not," snarled Professor Snape, but Harry cut him off, "And I'd like to donate the ingredients to the Hogwarts Potions cupboard."

Snape fell silent almost immediately, and surveyed Harry with slight respect in his eyes.

"A noble thought, Mister Aristide. I will see to it. Now off you go," said Professor Flitwick. The five of them left immediately. As they walked away, Harry felt the silence grow around him. Stares were being levelled at him, and he shivered at the glare he was getting from Susan.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Harry," said Neville in his usual soft manner after a few minutes.

"I know," said Harry softly, "But let's do it tomorrow. We have the morning off, and it's a long story."

The others agreed grudgingly and kept moving, though the silence was never broken, save for Tracey and Daphne, who softly thanked him as they reached the Ravenclaw rooms.

_**It looks like the choice was made for you**_ observed Rasenth as Harry prepared to turn in for the night.

_**I noticed **_said Harry dryly _**I just hope this doesn't cost me their friendship.**_

* * *

The next day came all too soon for Harry, who stalled as much as possible as he slowly got ready for the day. He sensed amusement radiating off Rasenth, but ignored him. He was terrified that the truth would push his friends away, that they would reconsider associating with him.

_**You do them an injustice by assuming instead of asking them **_chided Rasenth gently.

Harry sighed. _**You're right**_ he admitted, before finally walking out of his room. He knew that his friends would most likely be gathered in the common room, waiting for him. He was proved right when he saw the four of them, alert and looking around like hawks, as if afraid he would sneak past them. He smiled slightly at the sight and walked over to them, sitting down in a couch facing them.

"Any time you want," said Tracey, smiling slightly. Harry nodded and first channelled his magic, weaving it towards privacy. A slight shimmer in the air told him he had succeeded. He then took a deep breath, and started at the very evening.

None of them interrupted him while he spoke, though Harry did notice their eyes growing larger and larger as he progressed with his story. Rasenth made himself visible as a small cat when Harry spoke about daemons, and changed his shape a few times before speaking to them. Tracey and Daphne thanked him for saving them, once they had recovered from their shock.

Harry was surprised to note that they didn't seem to show fear at any point during his story, though Neville and Tracey did get hard looks in their eyes when Harry spoke about Voldemort. Both of them had lost family to him, Harry realized belatedly.

"Well, that's it," he said and looked around nervously, "If you feel it's too dangerous to continue associating with me, I understa-" he forced out, only to have a dozen cushions flung at him vigorously.

"What's the big idea?" he demanded indignantly after withstanding the barrage, looking at the angry faces of his friends.

"You really think we're that shallow about picking friends?" demanded Tracey.

"I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart," muttered Neville.

"You _are_ in trouble for keeping secrets though," said Susan, smiling wickedly.

"So…so we're good?" asked Harry, hardly able to believe it.

_**Idiot**_ muttered Rasenth.

"Yes, I believe we are. You're our friend. You've helped us all at some point, and we'll help you," said Daphne in an unusually warm tone.

"We're going up against the dark lord…" mused Neville, before a small, but vicious smile came to his face, "Looks like I have a chance to pay that bastard back for my parents."

"You don't have to help me against Voldemort, I'm the one in the middle of this mess," protested Harry weakly.

"Someone's got a big head," snorted Susan, "All of magical Britain is in this mess, Harry."

"I think we've all lost something to Voldemort," said Neville, looking around the group. Harry was surprised when the other three all nodded, "That settles it then. We all have reason to join you, Harry."

"We need a cool name," mused Tracey, a playful smile on her face.

Harry looked at everyone, a great weight lifted from his chest. "Thank you," he said quietly, before consciously reverting back to his normal self.

"The Mimbletonians," suggested Neville, before being shot down immediately.

"I am _not _calling myself a stink-sap throwing plant," glared Daphne, and Neville sulked for the next few minutes.

"The Marauders" suggested Harry, "That's what my dad and his friends called themselves, and they were major enemies of Voldemort. It would be like honoring them. That, and it's a cool name," he added at the end, grinning.

"That sounds like a good name," mused Susan, before agreeing. The others followed suit, though Neville tried to pitch for The Mimbletonians one last time. Smacks to the head saw a rapid change in his views though, and the motion passed.

"Well, since we're reviving the Marauders, I'll have to get back one of our most valuable tools," mused Harry.

"What tool?" asked Tracey curiously.

"It's a surprise," grinned Harry, "But I'll tell you it's the closest we can get to keeping tabs on everyone in Hogwarts."

* * *

An old man sat in his office late at night, repeatedly reaching for sherbet lemons as he pondered the day's events. _Quirrell isn't as discreet as he thinks he is _he thought to himself as Fawkes shot him a look of disgust.

_You should have started this term , Harry. What name are you hiding under? _he pondered. There were five Harrys among the first years alone, which meant that he would have to play the waiting game - a game he was especially good at.

"Voldemort and Harry will face each other, it is inevitable. And when they do, I will know who you are Harry," mumbled the old man, as lemon drop juice ran down his beard. He continued to mumble incoherently for most of the night. Fawkes flamed away to get some sleep.

* * *

**A/N: So, one of the defining points of the Philosopher's Stone is over. The upgraded troll was a good idea, I thought, since Harry has Rasenth to work together with. Runes will be increasingly important, but Harry will spend most of his first year on Arithmancy. I have a rather cool idea for when he becomes proficient at it.**

**Review, review and review some more :P**


	11. Author's Note

**Firstly, apologies to those who thought this to be a chapter. **

**I've become very unhappy with this story. It wasn't a smart idea to experiment with a style I was new to at the level of a full-blown story. I don't usually write like how I do in this story, and I'm starting to regret the idea. Writing has always been an experience I've enjoyed. But now, I'm forced to use a style that I've decided isn't meant for me. **

**Rather than subject you readers to a work that even I've lost faith in, I guess it's time to bow out gracefully. This story is being discontinued.**

**However! I already have another idea in the works. This time, I'll stick a writing style that I like and am comfortable with. I would greatly appreciate if you guys read that story, when it's put up. It'll be much better than this one, I guarantee it.**

**Thank you for reading so far.**

**ShoredKafka.**


	12. New story notice

Hi guys,

Many of you asked me to let you know when I post my new story. Well, the prologue is now officially out.

The story is called 'Magical Personas' and you can find it on my profile. I'm not sure as to whether I can post a link here.

Doesn't matter if you have knowledge of the universe I'm crossing the story with, it'll still make sense to you.

Hope to see you there!

-ShoredKafka


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